The Ugly Duckling
by Joshua The Evil Guy
Summary: Season 1 AU What if an eight-year-old Emma Swan found her way to the Enchanted Forest and met an eight-year-old Regina Mills? What if they both had adventures together throughout their shared childhood, until Fate, Destiny, or whatever put them back on track, until they meet again in Storybrooke? How would things change? Swan Queen, Time Travel, Realm Travel, Emma magic/Mary Sue.
1. 0

Title: The Ugly Duckling

Author: Joshua

Rated: T (Teen – I'll do my best to keep the language and content acceptable, any 'M' scenes will, unfortunately, have to be either side-stories, or entries in the 'Evil Guy Fantasies')

Disclaimer: Once Upon A Time, and all associated characters, are owned by ABC, and by proxy, Disney. I am not a part of the Disney family, so I have no ownership of anything really. Just sparking a bit of imagination and sharing the product of inspiration that came after the Season 3 Winter Finale "Going Home", and all the Swan Queen fanfics I've been practically devouring ever since. Also, felt like waiting to post on the day of the mid-season premier just because.

Summary: Season 1 AU What if an eight-year-old Emma Swan found her way to the Enchanted Forest and met an eight-year-old Regina Mills? What if they both had adventures together throughout their shared childhood, until Fate, Destiny, Whatever put them back on their paths, until they meet again in Storybrooke? Swan Queen, Time Travel, Realm Travel, Emma magic/MarySue.

Story:

0.

Emma Swan was an orphan.

She'd been found at the side of the road on the highway, barely a day old. She's been in the foster care system ever since. She'd been wrapped up in a blanket that had her first name stitched into it, along with the image of a swan in flight stitched into the lining, hence her name.

The boy that had found her, who most had naturally assumed was her big brother, had run away along with a number of other youths from one of the foster care homes, so it had just been her. She'd been adopted by a kind, well-intentioned couple when she was almost 20 months. They moved out west and raised her as their own. Until they'd learned they would soon have a child of their own. The couple were simple people and had limited means. Emma was placed back into foster care at three and a half years of age.

By the time she was five, she'd already been through a number of different foster 'homes', practically every color of the rainbow, to turn a phrase. She was then adopted by another, kind, well-intentioned couple. Three years later, she now cowered beneath the twin-sized bed, doing her best to ignore the yelling screams that echoed throughout the house. They never yelled at her. Well, not in anger and never about things that parents weren't supposed to yell at their kids for; cleaning, chores, homework, that sort of thing. And they certainly liked her well enough. The woman... well, she probably even loved Emma, and the man, he actually was really cool and taught the blue-eyed blond girl a lot.

But they didn't love each other. Not anymore. They'd probably adopted Emma under the failed notion that a child made marriages last longer or better or something stupid and hopeful like that. She'd seen it plenty of times in the system, heard about it even more. Guess it was her turn now.

She pulled the blanket down and over her before turning on the flashlight. Pointing it, she illuminated the cover of the book that she'd... acquired that day, and was hoping would distract her from the arguing long enough for her to forget about and just not let it bother her. At least until they stopped fighting and she could try to get some sleep after that.

It was a large leather-bound book, embossed with gold lettering on the cover, the first letter of the three words there shown in relief of the gold squares around them, further highlighting the capital letters. It read, _O__nce __U__pon a __T__ime_. She opened the book and started to read from the beginning. To her surprise, the story turned out to be the origin of Peter Pan, with a twist that wasn't in the original story she was sure. It certainly wasn't what happened in the Disney version, that's for sure!

A loud scream pierced the night, making Emma wince and cower in her hiding place. The interruption sent her memory back to the events of earlier that afternoon and how she'd gone about 'acquiring' her new book in the first place.

Seeing as how they lived in the city, and she went to public school, Emma found it to be less trouble to walk to school rather than try and catch the bus every day. Besides, with traffic in the morning, she tended to get to school early or on time, either way always sooner than the buses.

That particular morning, she was navigating the back alleys, making sure to avoid the trouble spots, when she came upon something unexpected and most definitely unwanted.

It was the city, not a neighborhood sitcom from the eighties, so while she didn't fit the classic definition of the 'neighborhood bully', every kid in the district knew who Big Sally was. They also knew to avoid going near her or her gang's turf. They aren't one of the big time gangs, thankfully, not into drugs or guns or anything like that, but they weren't exactly pillars of the community either, that's for sure.

She and four of her gang were in a back alley lot. Emma had been trying to sneak by to get to school through said back alley lot, not having known that Big Sally would be there. She almost double-backed and found another way around, when she caught sight of what exactly it was they were doing.

They had a cloth sack. A cloth sack that was moving, squirming, and making the sounds of a trapped and scared cat. It was clear from all the girls stance and weapons they held what their intention was, and it certainly wasn't to pet the kitty!

Emma wasn't known as a troublemaker, but she still tended to get into trouble a lot. Her problem was, she'd been told repeatedly, was that she didn't even consider the consequences to her actions, she merely acted and counted her exits. Such as in this case.

She snuck into the lot unnoticed. She couldn't explain it, because honestly she didn't see anything strange about it until after the fact most often, but whenever she wanted to be real quiet or remain unnoticed, with her heart pumping and her blood rushing in her ears, _nobody_ ever saw or heard her until she was practically under their noses and did something to get their attention. She used that skill now, moving as quickly yet carefully as she could to get to the bag before anything happened to its unfortunate prisoner.

It all happened very quickly. She was within a meter of the gang, none of them looking at her. Big Sally winding up with a crowbar while one of the other girls held the squirming bag out. She ran, slipping in between them as she grabbed the writhing bag and kept running, barely ducking down to avoid Big Sally's swing in time. She ran back to the alley, struggling with the bag to get it open. Right when she heard the outraged shouts and sounds of pursuit coming from behind her, she managed to get it open and upended it to drop a black cat into her arms.

Knowing better than to deal with an angry cat while fleeing, she let it jump down from her grip while yelling at it to, "Run!" It went one way, she went the other, toward the street, she didn't bother looking to see if any of the bullies chased it, seeing as she knew Big Sally was chasing _her_!

She didn't pay attention to where she ran or how far they chased her. Not until she started to get tired and they began to gain on her. That is when she started looking for places to hide.

Taking a sharp turn, she saw only one viable option; _Arcana Cabana_, a novelty shop just on her left, the door open by an inch. She ducked inside and closed the door as quickly as she could without slamming it, hiding beneath the window and listening as the gang ran by. Luckily, she'd had enough of a head start that they hadn't seen the door closing, so they kept on down the street and wouldn't think to come back to check the shops for her. She was going to be late for school though at this rate, but there was no way she was going out again until the coast was clear.

"Someone there?" a voice echoes out from the back of the store.

Emma squeaked and jumped up, frightened, while suddenly grateful that the gang had already gone past and hadn't heard her squeak. She carefully, as silently as she could, made her way toward the back, where she'd heard the voice come from. The store she found herself in was, as she suspected, one of those novelty shop places, where the novelty seemed to primarily revolve around the concept of the supernatural, which kinda made sense after remembering it was called the _Arcana_ Cabana. Making her way to the back, she thought she saw someone sitting in an old wing-back chair next to a wall of floor-to-ceiling shelves of books, but after squirming past a mannequin covered by knight armor, she didn't see anyone there anymore. Frowning, she turned back around to see if there was anywhere else they could be, when she squeaked again upon seeing a tall, older gentleman standing only a few feet right behind her.

"I thought I'd heard someone," he said, more to himself than her. He was tall, over six feet, though the young girl was hardly one to estimate given her own four foot stature. He was caucasian with graying hair that had once been black, with a full, yet trimmed beard. His eyes, which bore down into her blue/green ones, were dark, almost solid black if not for her being able to barely distinguish his pupils from the rest. He was dressed in a brown suit, really it was just brown slacks, a brown jacket, and a brown shirt of a different shade, brown shoes and brown socks.

"We're closed," he told her. "Come back after school, little girl." He pointed to the door.

Her eyes widened in panic and she shot nervous looks between him and the door. He lowered his arm and shot her a concerned look. She was familiar with 'concerned' adults, and began to think that maybe she'd better take her chances with the gang.

"I'm the owner of this shop," he said as way of introducing himself. "And you are?"

"S-sw-Swan," she stuttered, the adrenaline of before leaving her system. "Em-Emma Swan."

"Swan," he repeated with a surprisingly gentle smile. "What a lovely name."

Tilting her head curiously, Emma wondered why it was that she wasn't more creeped out by this strange man. Her instincts were usually spot on when it came to the numerous moods of adults and right now they were telling her that this man was not a threat. They'd never let her down before, so she saw no reason not to trust them now. She decided to indulge her curiosity.

"What kind of store is this?" she asked, pointedly ignoring him having told her to leave.

Heaving a sigh, the man shook his head and headed back to the wall of books and the chair there. "It is a specialty store," he answered. "I provide product, information, and exchanges of unique and hard to find items of eclectic and esoteric value. And I'm only open from noon to midnight, young lady. And you should be in school."

"I've got time," she shrugged, following him to his chair. He sat down rather heavily and picked up a large, leather bound book, opening it to somewhere in the middle. His movement knocked the top piece of mail off the stack next to his chair to the floor. Emma reached down and picked up the postcard, looking at the interesting picture of a clock tower and the words 'Welcome To Storybrooke' on it, leaving the message side facing him as she looked it over. Putting it back on top of his mail, she never saw the other side, only that he was suddenly looking at her with very intense eyes that made her nervous.

"Swan, eh? Tell me, are you familiar with the story of the Ugly Duckling?" he asked her.

"Of course," she shrugged. "Isn't everybody?"

Turning to a marked page in his book, he pretended to read from it. "Once upon a time, a family of ducks did as all ducks do, and built a nest in order to lay and hatch some eggs. Ducks, not being all that bright in the first place, never noticed amidst taking turns to sit on the eggs for warmth, that at some point they had gained an extra egg somehow. When the eggs were all hatched, the mother and father ducks all praised their offspring for their fine looks and beauty. All except for one. This ones egg hatched after all the others and the ducks didn't know what to do with it. When it finally hatched, the chick was more homely than the other ducklings, not having yellow pinfeathers or looking at all the same. In fact, to the ducks, this chick looked quite ugly. Telling this to the chick from the moment it hatched, over and over, repeated by it's 'siblings', it became known as the ugly duckling."

"Yeah, I know the story," Emma huffed, crossing her arms. Despite that she'd sat down across from him and was listening closely.

"Finally, as soon as it could fend for itself, the ugly duckling set out to find some place where it belonged," he continued. "Where it was not ugly, where it was not ridiculed for being strange and unwanted. Where it would not be made to feel inferior."

Emma squirmed in her seat, not liking the parallels that she'd never before associated with herself and this story. Then again, maybe it was just the way this guy was reading the story and how he kept glancing at her face off and on, as though he too were making comparisons between the story and this little girl he was reading a fairy tale story to.

"And so, it left its adopted home to live in the wilds with ducks and geese and other wild birds, never quite fitting in with any of them, but still managing to survive. Until one day, hunters came and killed the flocks. Left to wander again, it tried to make a home with an old woman, but her cat and hens continued the verbal abuse of its infancy, and so it left once again. Winter comes. The ugly duckling isolated itself in a cave, keeping away from all the others, driving off even those that might be its friend, and nearly dying from the cold isolation it has forced upon itself. When the spring comes and the lake thaws, a flock of swans descend. The ugly duckling, now having fully grown and matured cannot endure a life of solitude and hardship any more and decides to throw itself at the flock of swans deciding that it is better to be killed by such beautiful birds than to live a life of ugliness and misery. Instead of attacking and mocking it, however, the swans greet him as one of their own. Upon seeing his reflection in the water, the once ugly duckling realizes that it has grown into a beautiful swan. The flock takes to the air and the ugly duckling spreads his beautiful large wings and takes flight with the rest of his new family."

"Nice story," Emma said with sarcasm. "What's the point?"

"The parable, I suppose," he said, "is to not let ridicule and abuse get the best of you, and also to never give up on finding those that you'll call family. The point, is that I wanted to see your reactions. My ugly duckling."

Scowling, she scoffed at him. "I'm not a duck, and in case it wasn't clear, my name is already Swan!"

"Ah, but even while it was being teased and hidden away in its cave, the ugly duckling was also still a swan. It was a swan from the moment it hatched. It just didn't know that until it found its family. So, by your reactions, I've gathered that you're still very much the 'ugly duckling' and you have yet to run away to the wilds even, let alone survived the winter in your isolated cave."

"What do you care?" she scowled, arms crossed.

"Hm, what indeed?" he chuckled and stood up from his chair.

He walked over to to the front counter, the book tucked under one arm, where he then pulled out a piece of paper. He inspected it, taking a very close look at whatever was on it, until Emma followed him over. When she got close enough to actually read it, he instead folded it up and kept folding until it was a small two inch square, which he then shoved inside the book under his arm at some random place in it.

"Why aren't you in school, young duckling-who-is-not-ugly?"

Emma scowled again, and repeated her earlier answer. "I've got time."

"Hm," he grunted. "So, are you going to buy something, or do I just kick you out now so I'm not caught aiding in your truancy? Your... skipping school," he added at her confused look.

"What kind of stuff do you sell?" she asked.

"Things like this book," he held it up for her cursory inspection. "Special things. Things that take a very special kind of person to use to their maximum potential."

"What kind of 'special' are we talking about here?" she inquired.

"Did you ever see that movie, the Never Ending Story?" he asked instead. She nodded, yes she'd seen it. "Remember that warning the book keeper gave Bastian? About how it was a dangerous book unlike all the others, where he could stop being part of the story just by putting them down, but how that book, he would always be part of the story, and the story would never end?"

"You're saying _that_ is the Never Ending Story book?" she laughed, pointing.

"No, this is just a story book," he shrugged. "But stories are sometimes true, you know. You just have to know what to do while reading them to make them come alive. Legend speaks of gifted people, called Silver Tongues, that could do just that. They could bring stories to life."

"How would they do that? Make noises? Sound effects? Holograms?" Emma giggled.

"No, nothing quite so... modern," he answered. "They would use their emotions. They would focus their concentration and the attention and wills of their listeners on the story to such a degree that with every word, so that they would all feel as though the story were happening to them, right at that moment. In happy moments, they would be light, carefree, and perhaps even comical. In the more intense moments... well, I'm sure your all too familiar with dramatic effects." She smiled and shrugged. Acting was key for kids in the system.

"And for the darker parts of the story, where the goal was to escape, they kept everything focused down to one, singular drive. To escape. Fear, anger, rage, love, happiness, all of it circling right back to the need to escape, to depart, to get the heck out of dodge. That's what you should do actually."

"Excuse me?" she jumped back, startled.

"When reading the stories in this book," he said, holding it out for her. "Keep one goal in mind, even as the words pour over you and through you, just focus on what is happening and if you're talented like the legendary Silver Tongues, you'll find them coming alive for you like never before."

"But, I don't have a lot of money," she frowned.

He shrugged. "How much do you have?"

She dug around for a bit and pulled out every last cent she had, whether they be pennies, quarters, and her lunch money. When it was all laid out on the counter, he looked it over and nodded. Handing her back her lunch money, he took the rest, and then handed her back two quarters, as well as the book entitled _O__nce __U__pon A __T__ime_, taking a grand total of thirty-three cents for it.

"Seriously?" she exclaimed, looking back and forth between her new book and the shopkeeper.

"Is there something else here that you were thinking of purchasing?"

"Uh, no, I..." she trailed off and that's when she noticed the time. "Oh! I'm late! Thanks for the book, mister! I gotta go!" She then ran out of the store, struggling to fit the large leather tome into her backpack.

She almost didn't hear him when he said to her, "Happy Birthday, Miss Swan."

She stopped at the door, and looked back at him, one foot outside, one foot still inside. "How did you know it is my birthday?" she asked him, suddenly afraid this was a trick.

"I didn't," he answered smoothly. "But gifts are only given for certain occasions, and it is not yet December."

"Oh. Well, thanks again!" she called and then really did leave that time, running the rest of the way. She barely managed to make it through the front doors as the bell rung. And the funny thing? She'd still beaten the school buses for her neighborhood.

After that, it had been a fairly normal school day, though her thoughts kept going back to her new book, enough that she spent half of lunch and most of recess looking through it. The shop owner was right. Mostly it was just stories, fairy tales, but they were different than the Disney movies, or even the 'original' stories that they learned about in English class. For one thing, she didn't remember Red Riding Hood _*being_* the wolf, or Snow White attacking and robbing Prince Charming on the highway and then fighting trolls on a bridge, or for that matter, all the characters of all the previous stories coming together to fight the Evil Queen's curse in the end.

After school, she'd gone ho... back to the house she's staying at for now, they reminded her it was her eighth birthday, did the whole cake thing, had some fun with presents, just two gifts–not counting her new book–and then after she'd gone up to bed... they had started fighting. Which brought her back to hiding behind her bed, the cover drawn up over her and reading her book via flashlight, wishing they would just stop!

She remembered what the shop owner told her to do, about how the Silver Tongues used to do it. Focus on the story, but more than that, concentrate on the goal. Well, her goal right then and there was to get out of that house and lose herself in the story. She was reading about the Evil Queen in her younger years, before she'd become queen, before she'd become evil really. She read the story of a girl in love, who had her love ripped away from her by her own mother, all because a young Snow White couldn't see through the manipulations of the girl's mother. Emma wished she could've been there. For one thing she wouldn't have been fooled by that evil witch mother, and another thing, she would have actually tried to help the girl escape with the stable boy. If only she could have been there, she would change the story.

She closed her eyes tight when the shouting got louder, and louder, and _louder_, and then... suddenly... silence, and darkness.

_Continued..._


	2. I

I.

Emma Swan entered her apartment, her arms full, still wearing the stained dress from her bust earlier in the evening. She closed and locked the door behind her—it was downtown Boston after all—and made her way over to the island counter to put down her packages. Wasting no time, she opened up the first bag and pulled out a boxed cupcake. Ripping open the second bag, she got out the candles and matches, putting a blue star candle into the middle of the gourmet cupcake and then carefully lighting it with a struck match.

Once that was taken care of, she crossed her arms on the counter and lowered her head down upon them, staring into the candle light. Staring for a moment, her mind thought back to what that bastard had said to her, what did she know of family? Her reply had been, 'Nothing,' but that wasn't entirely true.

"Another banner year," she whispered to her little 'birthday cake'. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and blew out the candle, while screaming in her mind, '_I wish I didn't have to be alone on my birthday ever again!_' The candle flame winked out.

A knock at the door came, Emma's eyes snapped open in surprise.

She went to open it, not bothering with looking out the peephole, and then stopped when nobody was there. Correction, she thought as she looked down, nobody of adult height was there. A boy, probably ten years old at the most, with brown hair, freckles and green-brown eyes wearing a black overcoat and a red and blue scarf was standing there, looking up at her expectantly.

"Uh... can I help you?" she asked, at a loss.

"Are you Emma Swan?" he asked in turn rather than answer.

"Yeah," she cautiously answered, scenarios of everything from her neighbor's kid, to a preadolescent serial killer, to the weirdest court process server imaginable. "Who are you?"

"My name's Henry," he said with a wide smile. "I'm your son." He then slipped past her as she's too busy being stunned at his declaration to stop him, and walks confidently into her apartment like he's lived there his whole life already. All ten years of it.

She spun around and followed him into the apartment, saying, "Whoa, hey, kid! Kid! I don't have a son! Where are your parents?"

"Ten years ago, did you give a baby up for adoption?" he said more than asked, walking around to the other side of her kitchen. "That was me."

She stops and stares. A multitude of emotions barrage her psyche all at once and the situation suddenly becomes too much to deal with after the day she's had. Staring at the brown haired little boy with new eyes, panic becomes the predominant of all the emotions she's being overwhelmed by, so she goes with that for the moment. Only, panic doesn't really help in any situation, and she really shouldn't melt down in front of the kid in the first place. So, time for a tactical retreat.

"Give me a minute," she tells him and practically runs for the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her, giving the illusion of privacy for the time being.

This was too much. She'd been a stupid kid, teaming up with some asshat named Neal, and she couldn't even be sure that was his real name either. They'd gone on one big score together, after being together for not quite a whole year, and then after it was over and done with and they were trying to fence the stupid merchandise, she'd got caught holding the bag, literally! A month later, she found out she was pregnant after being sick all the time and was moved to the part of the prison reserved for pregnant mothers or women with infants to care for.

Everything that she'd gone through as a child in the system had plagued her constantly while in prison. Every day she had to convince herself that she was doing the right thing in giving the baby up for adoption. Every day as her due date came closer, it became that much harder to do. In the end, she couldn't even let herself hold him, knowing that if she so much as touched him, looked at his red crying face, that she would never be able to let him go. But she could not be a mother.

She could not be a mother.

She cannot be a mother.

"Hey, do you have any juice?" Henry's voice called out from the kitchen, startling Emma from her panic attack. "Never mind, found some!"

Taking a breath, Emma took control of her nerves and finally exited the bathroom.

"You know, we should probably get going," Henry said, after drinking right out of the juice carton, when he noticed her leaving the bathroom.

"Going where?" she asked, suspicious.

"I want you to come home with me," he answered honestly, putting away the juice.

"OK kid," she'd had enough. "I'm calling the cops." She crossed the room over to where the phone was.

"And I'll tell them you kidnapped me," he said without missing a beat even as she picked up the receiver.

The scenario flashed through her mind in an eye blink. She sighed and finished the remainder of the kid's threat, "And they'll believe you because I'm your birth mother." She hit the off button and put the phone back down.

"Yep," he grinned at her, hands folded in front of him.

Shooting him a look, she analyzed his face, body posture, expression, all in an instant where the information was processed and a decision made as fast as the thoughts could form. "You're not gonna do that," she told him.

"Try me," he said. The rest of him said plenty more, enough to confirm her gut instinct.

"You're pretty good," she said, referring to his poker face, "but here's the thing. There's not a lot I'm great at in life, but I have one skill I am really good at. Let's call it a superpower. I can tell when anyone is lying. And you, kid, are." She made to pick the phone back up.

"Wait," he begged, losing all his 'poker face' composure in an instant. "Please don't call the cops. Please come home with me."

"Where's home?" she demanded.

"Storybrooke, Maine," he said honestly.

"Storybrooke? Seriously?" she said, incredulous. She'd never heard of a more ridiculously named town in her entire life. Why not 'New Mayberry' while they were at it?

"Mmhmm," he nodded.

"Alrighty then," she sighed. "Let's get you back to Storybrooke."

It took her about thirty minutes to get changed and pack up her bags. She wasn't moving away or anything, but this kid had tracked her down across state lines, and if nothing else, her experiences had taught her to be prepared for when the unwanted changes in plans struck. She didn't want to have any part of this kid's life, she didn't even want him there in the first place! And yet...

And yet here she was, getting ready to drive him back to his home, when she should be calling the cops and having the parents come to her in order to pick him up. That wasn't going to happen now, obviously, but she still had to be prepared for staying in this... Storybrooke place longer than a few hours. It wasn't the plan, but there you go.

So, car packed up, apartment locked up and the landlord being told that she was going on a 'long-term assignment', which happened every now and again so they had a system in place for her being away for several days or even weeks and once even a couple of months, and they were on their way up to Maine. As they were passing over the bridge, she glanced over at the kid, who had his head stuck in a large brown leather book. It looked... familiar. She just couldn't put her finger on it. Like an out of tune chord being struck amidst a string orchestra. Stands out, but really hard to track down.

A few hours later, the comfortable silence (for Emma) was finally broken by the kid asking, "I'm hungry. Can we stop somewhere?"

"This is not a road trip. We are not stopping for snacks," she said.

"Why not?"

"Quit complaining, kid," she warned. "Remember, I could've put your butt on a bus. Still could."

"You know, I have a name? It's Henry," he said, annoyed at her calling him 'kid' all the time.

When he turned back to his book rather than continue the argument, she glanced at him and it again. Something about it... was _so_ familiar, but she just could not put her finger on it.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I'm not sure you're ready," he said.

"Ready for some fairy tales?" she said incredulously.

"They're not fairy tales," he insisted. "They're true. Every story in this book actually happened."

"Of course they did," Emma said sarcastically.

"Use your superpower, see if I'm lying." Henry put down the book and looked her in the eye.

She glanced over, checked the road and then looked back for a longer look. Damn, not lying.

"Just because you believe something doesn't make it true," she rationalized.

"That's exactly what makes it true. You should know more than anyone," he said.

"Why's that?" she asked, attention back on the road.

"Because you're in this book."

Oh, crap. Her son was going to end up being one of those crazy kids, the 'weirdo' none of the other kids talked to, the schizophrenic teen that was in and out of the psych ward all through high school, and then the crazy homeless guy raving in the street and being ignored by everyone and everything. How the hell had this happened? He was supposed to have been better off without her in his life to screw him up!

"Oh, kid," she said, more scared than remorseful, "You've got problems."

"Yup," he agreed with a smile on his face, before continuing, "And you're going fix them."

She shot him a look of sheer disbelief. The look of absolute faith on his expression actually drew out a laugh from her suddenly raw throat. The rest of the trip was made in tense silence, broken only by Emma asking for and Henry providing directions once they were off the interstate. Apparently there was no direct exit for this Storybrooke, and seeing as how it was on the coast, the only way to get to it were the back roads and mountain highways. An hour after they'd left the interstate, they entered a forest, the road winding here and there before going straight for several stretches before winding once more. By the time they passed the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign, it was way past time when most people were at home in bed. Of course the rain wasn't much help, but at least by the time she saw buildings instead of trees it had stopped.

"OK kid," she said, seeing that they'd finally arrived at their destination, "How about an address?"

"Forty-four not-telling-you street," he answered smugly.

She slammed on the brakes, the tires of her yellow bug actually squealing in the night. Fortunately there were, literally, no other cars in sight, so no danger of causing a traffic accident. She put the car in park and even went so far as to turn off the engine as she slammed open the door and got out, turning to glare at her 'offspring' as he did the same, minus the slamming that is. She could understand, in this moment, how some animals _eat_ their young.

"Look, it's been a long night and it is almost—" she glanced up at the clock tower they'd stopped across from and read the face with a note of confusion, "—eight fifteen?"

Looking up at it, Henry explained, "That clock hasn't moved my whole life. Time's frozen here."

"Excuse me?" she said, unable to conjure enough energy for the double-take she wanted to do.

"The Evil Queen did it with her curse. She sent everyone from the Enchanted Forest here," he said.

"Hang on," she held up her hand and did her best not to pinch her nose or anything. "The Evil Queen sent a bunch of fairytale characters here," she repeated with sarcasm mounting with every word.

"Yeah," Henry confirmed. "And now they're trapped."

"Frozen in time, stuck in Storybrooke, Maine. That's what you're going with?" she asked, unable to believe the story he was trying to feed her. She'd heard some doozies, hell she'd even sold some in her time, but... wow.

"It's true!" he insisted.

"Then why doesn't everybody just leave?" she pointed out the flaw in his logic.

"They can't. If they try, bad things happen."

A man walking a dalmatian came down the street. The moment he caught sight of the arguing pair, he rushed over with his dog and cried out, "Henry! What are you doing here? Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, Archie," Henry replies while petting the dalmatian, whose tag identifies it as Pongo.

"Who's this?" the man, Archie asks, indicating Emma.

"Just someone trying to give him a ride home," she answers, only giving a part of the truth, hoping to keep certain facts quiet and just between them. Of course, then the kid had to go and ruin it.

"She's my mom, Archie," Henry tells him.

"Oh... I see," the curly-haired redhead with thick-rimmed glasses stood straight, realizing just how awkward things had become all of a sudden.

Emma grimaced and did her best to move on, as it were, and asked Archie, "You know where he lives?"

"Oh. Yeah, sure, just uh, right up on Mifflin Street; the Mayor's house is the biggest one on the block," Archie answered, pointing in the correct direction.

Emma shot the kid a baleful glare. "You're the mayor's kid?"

"Uh, maybe?" he shrugged, wincing at being caught in his lie.

"Hey," Archie said. "Where were you today, Henry? Because you missed our session."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I went on a field trip." Wow, so much for the kid's poker face skills. He must have been practicing for her on the bus ride over. Seems he couldn't do improv all that well.

Archie knelt down so that he and Henry were eye-to-eye. "Henry, what'd I tell you about lying? Giving in to one's dark side never accomplishes anything."

Wow, could this possibly get anymore 'after-school-special'?

"O-kay!" Emma clapped her gloved hands together. "Well, I really should be getting him home."

"Yeah. Sure," Archie nodded and got back to his feet, walking away with his dog. "Well, listen—have a good night, and uh, you be good, Henry."

"So that's your shrink?" Emma observed as they watched 'Archie' walk away.

"I'm _not_ crazy," he said. Apparently it was a sore subject.

"Didn't say that," she said, getting into the car. "Just—he doesn't seem _cursed_ to me. Maybe he's just trying to help you."

"He's the one who needs help. Because he doesn't know," he said.

"That he's a fairytale character," she said.

"None of them do. They don't remember who they are."

"Convenient," she remarked as they both got in and closed the doors. "All right, I'll play. Who's he supposed to be?"

With absolutely no hesitation, Henry answered, "Jiminy Cricket!"

"Right. The lying thing. Thought your nose grew a little bit," she teased.

"I'm not Pinnochio!" he immediately protested, seeing what she was thinking..

"Course you're not," she said sarcastically as they drove to Mifflin Lane. "Cause that would be ridiculous." And she'd met the real Pinnochio when he'd been Henry's age. They looked nothing alike.

A few moments later she spotted the house. Jiminy—Archie, whoever, was right. Hard to miss. They got out of the car and started up the walkway to the front door.

Henry marched ahead of Emma like she was escorting him to his execution. The mansion, because that is the only thing it could be, stood looming before them as they made their way past the property line where tall, well-maintained hedges framed the stone walkway. Turning, the kid tried one last time to beg her for an alternative, to which she resolutely turned him back around.

"Please don't take me back there!" he begged.

"I have to. I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you," she said.

"I don't have parents. I just have a mom, and she's—evil," he said.

"Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it?"

Immediately after this last failure to get them to run away and avoid the inevitable confrontation, the front door of the mansion was opened and a striking brunette in a power suit was out and running down the walkway before they'd even made it halfway. Right behind her was a tall, rugged man in a local LEO uniform and the Sheriff's badge pinned to his leather jacket, strolling along at a more sedate pace.

"Henry!" the woman cried out and went straight for the boy.

It wasn't until she got close enough for Emma to see her face and get a good look at her, though her voice had certainly given her pause, but once she saw who Henry's adopted mother was she stopped short, stunned. What had been bugging her since she'd first seen the kid with that... that _damned_ book! It all came back to her, all at once! Memories half-forgotten, from before she ran away and had a chance encounter with a half-witted car thief by the name of Neal, suddenly surfaced and rose fresh in her mind as though it had all happened just yesterday!

"Henry, where have you been?" Regina Mills, mayor of Storybrooke, Maine, and once upon a time the Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest, demanded of the only good thing in her life. She'd been pulling every resource at her disposal and more trying to find her son, spending a large portion of the past twenty-four hours in a hysterical panic. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"In Boston," he shouted at her, his temper getting the best of him as he ran past her toward the house, "finding my _real_ mom!"

Regina recoiled in shock at the vitriol coming from her son, but the reaction was instantly squashed under a practiced mask of calm and control. She turned with a sneer to the blond woman in a red leather jacket still standing on her stone walkway. She briefly took in the woman's appearance and dismissed her as beneath her notice with practiced contempt, already turning plans over in her mind about the best and most efficient way to end the threat she posed and get this woman out of her town with absolutely no desire to ever return.

All of that, Henry's tantrum, Regina's plans, even the Sheriff's casual concern came to a silencing halt with a single word from the 28-year-old Emma Swan.

"Gin'?" she said, half shocked gasp, half pained whisper. (AN: Pronounced "Jean" basically)

At the familiar name that she had only ever allowed _one_ and _only_ one person to ever call her, Regina backed up a step and looked this interloper over from head to toe, taking everything in with a critical eye. Blond hair, blue-green eyes, sharp nose with soft features, and… Regina got no further than her face, focusing in on the woman's eyes, briefly imagining them with thick-rimmed glasses, and the girl in white leather, and a flowing feathered cloak, holding a sword…

"Oh!" Regina retreated a few steps, hands over her mouth in mid-gasp. The Sheriff stood back, holding the mayor only to make sure she didn't fall over. He was as confused about the women knowing each other as was a suddenly curious Henry, who was slowly stepping back down off the porch. "Emma? Emma Swan? But… how? That was… that was… How?!"

"I don't know, I…" Emma trailed off suddenly as her eyes lit up with sudden realization. "Hey! How does Henry have my book?!"

"Your book?" Regina repeated. Then her eyes lit up with the same realization. "You mean, _your_ book? Henry!" She turned and confronted her son.

"What?" the ten-year-old replied petulantly, much like any 10-year-old might.

"Do you have something of… of Ms. Swan's?" she said, a brief stutter as she tried to recall her old friend's surname to keep from calling her something far more personal.

"No, I…" he tried to protest, but Emma stepped up, whether to his rescue or not he couldn't be sure anymore.

"Kid!" the blond snapped. "Henry! Book, now! It's important!"

Seeing the urgency in her eyes, and the stern look in his adopted mother's expression, he sighed and ran all the way back to Emma's yellow punch buggy and retrieved the large leather tome from under the seat where he'd hid it. Quickly accepting it from his offering hands, Emma manhandled the book and took a fresh look at the cover. Same title, same everything really. Seeing the tall, rugged man standing nearby, she shoved the book into his arms while saying, "Hi, sorry, but can you hold this please? Thanks."

"Uh… sure?" the Sheriff said uncertainly as both women quickly began to leaf through the pages while he held both ends of the cover up so they could do so at leisure.

Halfway through the tome, Emma began to shake her head, while Regina's eyes slowly grew wider and wider in both awe and trepidation.

"It's not the same," she finally announced after leafing through several specific chapters.

"What?" Regina asked.

Shaking her head with more and more certainty, Emma repeated, "It's not the same. It's not the same book. I remember now, I checked the pages every time I… every time I came back. They were different every time, sometimes showing our adventures, sometimes even changing earlier or later stories that had been in it before. This doesn't show any of that, and it is also missing the chapter about Pinnochio going through the wardrobe first!"

"So, this isn't the same book then?" Regina confirmed.

Shaking her head, Emma sighed and closed it before taking it from the Sheriff's hands. "No, but it is… special. It's just not _my_ book."

"Well, that's a relief," Regina actually sighed and showed her genuine relief. "I remember the one time, and one time only thankfully, that somebody else got a hold of that. So where is yours?"

"It disappeared after… after the last time…" Emma trailed off, her eyes distant in memory.

Regina nodded, and then turned to the adult man standing there dumbfounded. "Thank you Sheriff, that will be all for this evening."

"Are you sure, Madam Mayor?" he asked, glancing back and forth between the two women.

"Quite sure," she confirmed. "Your services are not required at this time, nor at any point later this evening. You can go."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded and ambled on back to his cruiser, leaving the two women and the younger dumbfounded boy standing there with the still open book.

Once he was out of earshot, Emma smirked and whispered to Regina, "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?"

Taken aback, the former queen rounded on her old friend and snarled, "I fail to see how that is any of your business, _Swan_."

Grinning at the name she hadn't been called in over twelve years, Emma turned and started toward the house, saying over her shoulder, "If not my business, then whose, Gin? And yeah, you so are."

"It has not been your business for… well, for a lot longer than you can remember, Swan!" she replied, following after the blond.

Henry stared after his two moms, more confused by this confrontation than the revelation that fairy tale characters were the townsfolk of his hometown. Realizing that he was still standing out in his front yard while they walked inside, he hurriedly ran in after them, shouting the question that had been plaguing his mind since Emma first said his mom's name. "Wait, you guys know each other?!"

–_Twenty Years Ago_–

Emma had no idea what had just happened to her. One minute she'd been cowering under her bed with a flashlight and her new book, the next she was lying beneath the trees and the sunlight was streaming down through the branches and leaves. Getting to her feet, she looked down at herself and saw that she was still in her pajamas. She started to think that this was just a really vivid dream or something, except that she was barefoot and standing in the middle of a forest. Also, there was just something about everything that was far too… vivid to be any kind of dream.

There was a noise!

Scared, Emma crouched down and hid behind the largest tree nearby, putting the sound on the other side from her. As time passed, she realized that it was nothing threatening. At least not to her, not immediately anyway. A few seconds more and she finally recognized the sound. Horses! Galloping horses if she didn't mistake her guess. And that meant people!

Wincing with every other step, and taking care with where she put her feet, Emma began making her way in the direction of the sounds of horses. Getting closer, she began to see an end to the tree line, and also discovered that it was actually just one horse, being ridden by a girl her age!

Throwing caution to the wind, Emma ran out of the woods as quickly as she could, making for the other girl as fast as her little legs could carry her, not caring about any tears or scratches given to her by the forest for her hasty departure. She burst out into the open mere yards from the girl in the sky blue riding outfit, close enough to startle the horse at the least.

"Whoa, whoa there," the dark haired rider worked to calm the scared animal while holding on for dear life. Fortunately she and the horse were good friends and he was well trained so he only reared the once before allowing his rider to calm him.

"Hello?" Emma called, scared and tired. "Where am I? Can you help me? Please?"

"Whoa Rocinante," the black haired girl whispered as she trotted the horse over to her and then dismounted with an easy and practiced move. "Are you all right? Can I do anything to help?"

Now standing face to face, the two young girls got a better look at one another. One, black hair done up in a very tight braid dressed in an immaculately neat and tidy riding outfit, made of silk and satin. The other, messy blond hair filled with twigs and leaves, dressed in torn and faded Disney Princess shirt and pants pajamas. Brown eyes stared into blue/green eyes, both scared, and both filled with loneliness that they recognized in the other. They were friends instantly.

"I'm Emma," the blond girl introduced herself, holding out her hand. "Emma Swan."

"Hello," the black haired girl smiled brightly, accepting the hand with her own. "My name is Regina. Are you a fairy? Or perhaps a transformed animal?"

"What?" Emma exclaimed at the odd questions. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

"Oh, I meant no offense, it is just, well," the brunette blushed, and backed away fearfully. "Please forgive me, but I… I've never had someone introduce themselves to me as a swan before. I had just assumed… I meant no offense."

Grinning at the girl's rambling, Emma laughed off any perceived insult. "Don't be silly. I'm not an animal or anything, it's just a name. Why would you think I was a fairy though? Don't they have weird names like Tinkerbell, Bloom and Oberon? Who ever heard of a fairy named Emma?" She burst out into laughter, which caught Regina up in it as well.

Having laughed themselves out, the giggling girls turned back to the matter at hand.

"So," Regina began, "if you're not a fairy and not a transformed animal, what are you doing here, Emma? How did you come to be on our estate? Mother always knows when people come onto our property, and I think she would have mentioned you coming to visit."

"I have no idea," Emma answered honestly with a casual shrug.

They turned and started walking towards a house and stables in the distance, Regina leading her horse by the reins as Emma walked barefoot alongside. "One minute I'm in my bedroom, reading this awesome book filled with fairy tales, the next I'm looking up at a bunch of trees in a forest and I hear you galloping about. Where am I anyway? Coulda sworn that it was getting close to winter before, and I don't know of any… _estates_ nearby. Wasn't even scratched up until after I made a beeline for you after seeing you through the trees."

"How odd," Regina agreed. "Perhaps you were taken by magic or something. Did you make a wish to your fairy godmother? Or did your parents make a deal with some wizard for something? I hear tales of that sort of thing happening all the time."

Emma shot her new friend a weird look. She was perhaps more mature than most, and there were all the younger kids that one came across in group homes, and it was often encouraged by some of the… nicer… adults to let them keep onto fantasies such as magic and fairies for as long as possible. As for herself, she'd stopped believing in all things supernatural before she was six years old. That happened to most that never got adopted and kept getting sent back into the system. However, she'd never met someone that was _her_ age that still believed. Not wanting to make an enemy out of a new friend, she decided to humor the strange rich girl and just hoped that her parents were as nice and understanding as she was and could get her back to the home without too much fuss. She decided to go with the 'kidnapped' excuse, already concocting several stories that should hopefully let her skirt without too harsh of a punishment and no hard questions to answer.

"Yeah, maybe, I don't know," Emma went with the more noncommittal response to Regina's earlier question. "But seriously though, where am I?"

"Oh, my apologies once again," Regina stammered. "I keep forgetting myself. You are on my family's estate along eastern border of the West Kingdom of the Enchanted Forest. We're very close to the border with the North Kingdom, so it is possible that you hale from there."

Emma stopped walking and stared.

Noticing that her companion had stopped, Regina turned back and looked at her to see what the matter was. Emma's face was a mask of shock and outright disbelief as she repeated, "Kin-king-_kingdoms_?! I'm in _Europe_?! How the heck did I get to another continent?!"

Frowning with growing confusion, Regina asked, "Europe? No, this is the Enchanted Forest."

Emma blinked stupidly at that non-sequitur. She was starting to catch on that Regina wasn't just messing with her, and that something… not normal was going on. Weird was reserved for when the local gang started doing charity work. Same with 'strange', 'odd' and all other synonyms associated with those words. Hesitantly, fearing the question almost as much as the answer, she asked her new friend something that would change her life forevermore.

"Regina, I need to know, is this some kind of prank? Like some kind of psychological test or make-believe thing like they have on TV? Like that Derren Brown guy making this one guy believe the end of the world had come? Or those Candid Camera gags? I… I really need to know, Regina, because I'm seriously starting to freak out here, and you do _not_ want to see me freaked out!"

Concerned now, Regina let go of the reins and reached out to grab the blond by the shoulders. Looking as serious as a child of eight years ever could about anything, she told Emma with absolute honesty, something that Emma's unique experiences at reading people confirmed for her, "This is not a trick or a prank Emma. I'm sorry that you're lost, but you are in the Enchanted Forest, not this… Europe place you mentioned, and not anywhere else I'm afraid. I do not know what those other things you talked about are, but please believe me when I say that I am not trying to trick you and I would never do anything to hurt you."

Gulping, Emma idly wondered if this is what a panic attack was. If so, she was actually kinda disappointed, as she managed to get her breathing under control and fought past the lightheadedness with sheer determination within only a few minutes.

"Let's go find your parents, please," she whispered to Regina, who noticed her eyes were kind of dull and lifeless all of a sudden. Very near a panic herself at something happening to her new friend, Regina decided speed was needed over caution in this instance.

Manhandling the suddenly compliant girl, she got Emma up into Rocinante's saddle before pulling herself up and rode them at a fast trot for the main house, foregoing the stables as she knew neither of her parents would be there waiting for her. Once she was in earshot, she screamed out, fear adding an edge to her scream, "Mother! Father! Help!"

"Regina!?" a loud male voice called and an older man with thinning gray hair dressed in old world clothes came charging out of the main house. An instant after that, there was an explosion of gray-black smoke, which swirled upwards and then vanished faster than nature could explain. The moment the smoke disappeared, a stern looking woman in a black silk dress was seen standing there, where she had not been standing before.

That proved to be just a bit too much for the young Emma Swan, as she softly mumbled from her place in the saddle, "That was magic. She used magic. Magic is real. *snort* Not in Kansas anymore, Toto." And then she fainted and fell off the side of the horse.

"EMMA!" Regina screamed, reaching for her friend, but almost fell herself.

Doing perhaps the most selfless thing she'd done for her daughter in living memory, after giving birth to her that is, Cora Mills reached out with one hand and magically caught the blond girl before she could hit the ground and injure herself, levitating her away from the grass and over to her panting husband's arms.

"Regina, explain this!" she demanded. "Who is this girl? How did she get here? And what have I told you about your riding habits?"

Dismounting without care for the state of her appearance, Regina hurried to where her father was holding Emma and answered her mother in as quickly, yet still in as proper a manner as she could. "I have little in way of explanation, Mother. Her name is Emma Swan. She has no knowledge of how she came to be on our estate. I witnessed her coming out of the forest and proceeded to offer aid. We conversed and when Emma became insensate, I felt that speed was required over discretion. I apologize for any undue concern on my behalf, but I was scared for my friend. She's lost and needs our help."

Frowning, Cora held her peace as any remarks she would normally make would be detrimental in the long run. She had plans for her darling daughter, plans that required her to not second-guess rescuing certain little girls that were in danger, or the appearance of danger. And at least she'd remembered her manners despite a tense situation. Nodding curtly to Henry, she turned and stalked back into the house, leaving the matter in his and his daughter's hands.

Breathing a sigh of relief as her mother left with no other words spoken, Regina looked up at her father with tear-filled eyes, and asked, "Will she be all right, Father?"

"I'm sure she will," he answered his darling little princess with a warm smile. He'd been checking the helpless bundle while Cora had been interrogating her, and found that her breathing and pulse were both normal, and he'd heard what the girl mumbled before fainting dead away, so he had at least some idea of what might have happened. "I think she's just overwhelmed at the moment. Let's take her inside. Ask the servants to get some water and food for her. I'll put her in the sitting room for now. _After_ you take care of Rocinante, that is."

Nodding with a flush of embarrassment, Regina replied, "Yes, Father." She then hurried to lead her horse to the stables.

–_Twenty Years Later–_

Emma, Henry and Regina were all in the downstairs sitting room, the adults on the wingback chairs, the young boy on the loveseat, and the Book on the coffee table between them, opened on the last few pages, specifically the hand drawing of Snow White holding her newborn baby girl, a baby that was wrapped up in blankets that just so happened to be embroidered with the name 'Emma'. The adult woman just so happened to have said blanket tucked away in a bag in the trunk of her yellow bug, but she didn't feel like going out to get it.

"So," the blond 'Savior' broke the uncomfortable silence that had engulfed the three after the Sheriff's, Graham's departure. "Nice place you've got here."

Scoffing, Regina shook her head, saying, "Oh please, do not start."

"What? It is a nice place!" Emma said defensively, hands raised.

"It's too big," Henry commented.

"And you said the same thing to all those tyrants whose castles and mansions we used to sneak into all the time! I do not appreciate the comparison, especially not in front of my son!" Regina argued.

"Hey, _our_ son!" Emma protested. Henry's smile lit up the whole room, if not the house.

"Miss Swan," Regina growled. "You asked for a closed adoption. You know what that means. That means you have no legal right to Henry!"

"I did that because I still had another four months, at minimum, in prison, and I know from quite personal experience that his best shot was to be placed within the first six months! If anybody knew the birth mother was a felon, they'd have sent him back! If I'd known that he'd end up with you, I would have kept him and come straight here myself!"

"You… wait, what?" Regina did a double-take.

"You heard me!" Emma shouted. "_If_ I'd known that you were already here, and that you were going to adopt my son, the moment I got out of prison I would have packed us both on a bus and moved in!"

"Just like that, after all these years! After what happened?" Regina demanded.

"What happened?" Henry quietly asked.

"Grown-up stuff," Emma brushed him off.

"We were sixteen years old," Regina countered.

"So, he gets to wait till he's thirteen," Emma shot back.

"That's not fair!" Henry protested.

"Want to make it sixteen?" she challenged.

Backing down, he decided to change tracks. "How do you two know each other anyway?"

"Long story," they both said in unison.

"I've got time," he sat back on the loveseat.

"No, young man," Regina imposed, "What you've got is a bed time. And it is long since past."

"How can you tell, the clock doesn't move?" Emma 'whispered'.

"Don't start," Regina shot the blond a cold glare.

"You guys just want me out of your hair so you can yell at each other," Henry observed.

"Kid, if we wanted to yell at each other, we'd go out for a drink and leave you with a babysitter," Emma said, with a huff of annoyance. "Tell you what. Go to bed now, and over breakfast we'll give you the whole four-one-one, all right? Otherwise, I'm going to keep dropping hints, and teasing Gin', your mom here, giving you nothing but breadcrumbs until you actually pass out from exhaustion."

"Are you just saying that to get rid of me?" Henry challenged her.

Rolling her eyes, Emma glanced at her old friend and fellow mom, essentially passing the buck.

"I will call the school tomorrow to excuse you for the day," Regina gave her 'final offer'. "If I'd known… however, Swan is your mother and what she's said forces me to reevaluate our standing. The fact that you _know_ about the curse, something that Doctor Hopper has been remiss of informing me about, well… Henry, you deserve the truth, and apparently you'll seek it out whether you are ready for it or not. But the fact remains that you are a ten year old boy and it is past your bedtime. So, if you are not ready for bed in the next five minutes, you can forget about having the day off tomorrow."

Emma had never seen a kid move that fast before.

"Yeah, you are definitely that kid's mom," Emma said with an easy smile. Regina returned the smile, but didn't say anything.

"So, did you ever meet the '_Green Fairy_'?" the blond woman asked with a crooked grin and emphasized air quotes.

"All these years, and _that_ is the first thing you ask me about?" Regina snapped at her, a slight flush rising in her cheeks.

"Hey, it's only been eleven, almost twelve years for me," Emma said, hands raised. "Counting the twenty-eight I've been alive, I've no clue how long it has been for you. So… did you?"

"Ungh!" Regina let out a growl and jumped to her feet.

"Hey, it is a legitimate question, and one of the things that I always wanted to know about you after we read your part of the story!" Emma got to her own feet. The brunette had gone straight to a nearby cabinet, pulled out a bottle of amber liquid from a locked chest, along with two decanters, filled them, put the bottle away, and handed one of them to her.

"Don't remind me," she growled, gulping half the amount of her glass while Emma stared at her, shocked. "And for your information, yes, I _did_ meet the green fairy. Her name," she paused and seemed to relish the moment all of a sudden, "is Tinkerbell, by the way. She tried to change my story, give me a happy ending by hooking me up with someone new. A new true love."

"Isn't that what happened with us?" Emma said, quietly sipping her share of the alcohol.

"Who do you think she was trying to get me over?" Regina snarled.

"The stable boy, if I had my guess," the blond shrugged. "I was your secret life, remember? Nobody knew that you were Swan's partner, if they had you never would have been approached by Leopold. In fact, you probably would have been thrown in prison and executed. And did you say the green fairy's name is _Tinkerbell_?! As in _the _Tinkerbell?!"

Regina just laughed at her, going to sit across from her while nursing her cider.

"How the heck does _that_ work?" Emma said, falling back in her chair.

"You know I pardoned you?" the brunette whispered, after finishing off her drink. "I think part of me hoped that it would get your attention, get you to come back for… for one more day."

"After… after the last time?" Emma confessed, "The book disappeared. I looked for it. For a _long_ time. Longer than I probably should have. Finally, I just took off and tried to make a living, or take life by the horns. Managed to stay out of the gypsies hands, but only just. Met Henry's fath—paternal DNA provider, while trying to steal a car. From there, we did the whole Bonnie and Clyde thing, planning on 'retiring' in Tallahassee, Florida after a big score. The big score turned into a big bust, he left me essentially holding the bag. It's how I ended up in prison. Could have gotten away, could have escaped. Was going to actually. Then…"

"Henry," Regina guessed.

"Priorities changed," she continued. "Got the kid adopted as soon as possible, protecting him so that he wouldn't end up in the system like I did." She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp, letting it burn its way down to her stomach. "After I got out, I picked up where we left off, so to speak. You know, the deal we had with George and the others?"

"Bounty hunting?" Regina exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "You're a bail bondsman?"

"Bail bonds person," Emma cockily corrected.

"That is dangerous work, if I recall," Regina crossed her arms, glaring at her like she used to.

"You recall correctly," Emma shrugged. "But I'm good at it, if you'll recall. Heck, I was capturing fugitives of the crown, for several different crowns, when I was thirteen years old. Catching scumbags when I'm in my twenties is no big deal. And other than the existence of the internet and computers in this world, it really isn't all that different."

"That and a teleporting amulet to cut down on travel time," she scoffed.

"Yeah, well, that's what the interstate is for," she shrugged again. "You never told me where you got it from in the first place."

"Where, or rather _who_, do you think I got it from?" Regina sighed, hand automatically going to a necklace that was no longer there. "Of course, you remember when I lost it. It made having our adventures a little more difficult. I tried to call in the boon he owed me, to get it back or to get another one. But I never saw him again after… after the last time."

"Who are… oh," Emma blinked, staring. "_Him_. I guess you got it that first day then?"

Regina nodded, both of them recalling the day in question.

–_Ealdor Village, 'White' Kingdom_–

"This is not a good idea," Regina whined.

The two young girls were sneaking along the outer wall of the town fortress. How they got there in the first place was a matter of convincing Regina's father to take them to market to get Emma some clothes, and then hopping in the back of a wagon full of supplies bound for the home of a local wizard. The blond from another realm wanted to see more magic, and Cora wasn't the sort to perform party tricks for pretty much anyone, especially not strange girls that trespassed onto her property.

"Probably not," Emma giggled, holding the brunette's hand as they edged closer to the open window they'd spied earlier. She was now dressed 'properly' according to Regina, in a simple ankle-length full-bodied dress, cinched at the waist, though next to Regina's town dress it was rather plain. "But it is fun. You need to get out more, do something besides go to lessons and ride your horse. I do this sort of thing all the time back home. Usually gets me in trouble, but at least I saw or did something fun."

"Yes, but trespassing onto a wizard's property is more… _dangerous_ than fun!" she hissed.

"We're kids," Emma shrugged. "Anybody that does anything to kids is a monster and deserves whatever they get in the end. Besides, I'm curious. I've never seen half the things you take for granted and I want to see what all the fuss is about. How many people, do you think, can say that they've seen _real_ magic?"

"Most people are scared of magic and they often wish that they'd never witnessed it," Regina said. "At least that is what father says. I'm inclined to agree after having seen mother when she's angry and trying to be scary."

"Yeah, well, most people where I'm from don't believe magic exists, let alone fairies, mermaids and ogres," Emma said as she pulled herself up to and then into an open window leading into the interior of the fortress. Leaning back out, she held out her hand for Regina, saying, "Come on."

"This is such a bad idea," the brunette whimpered before taking the hand and allowing herself to be pulled inside the wizard's castle.

Once inside, they both took a look around the spacious room they found themselves in. The floors were solid marble, colorful designs interlaced all over. The walls were solid and were equally embroidered, portraits and trophies of various natures interspersed everywhere there was space. As for furniture, well, actually, there was just a single pedestal upon which rested a sphere made of solid, perfectly transparent crystal. A crystal ball in other words.

"Whoa," Emma said, a bit between overwhelmed and underwhelmed. "Talk about your clichés."

"What is it?" Regina asked, smoothing out her dress.

"My guess," she said, "a crystal ball. You know, the kind that lets you see into the future, people's hearts and all that stuff."

"Truly?" she gasped, awed by such powerful magic.

"Hm, quite insightful for a non-believer," a voice spoke from right behind the young girls.

Screaming, they turned and backed away from the source of the voice, which in this case was a wizened old man in royal robes of blue and silver with a full beard and neck-length silver-white hair. He just smiled pleasantly at the pair, making no move to attack or stop them, just watching and smirking at them, like a grandfather who had successfully pranked his grandchildren.

Once they stopped screaming and calmed down a bit, he said to Emma, "You are correct, young lady, in that it is made of crystal and what it is primarily used for, although I will not be the first to admit that the future is most difficult to divine. Mostly I use it for spying on the untrustworthy and communicating with my fellow magicians. I don't call it a 'crystal ball' however."

"So what do you call it?" Emma asked with all the innocence of a child.

Chuckling now, he began to pace around the room, keeping his distance from the children for the moment. "It is the Eye of Agamato. Well, one of them. Agamato actually has several thousand eyes, so he doesn't mind sparing a few for those he deems worthy. It reveals the truth of things. People, places, events… hearts and minds."

"Cool," Emma commented, keeping an eye on the wizard and one hand on Regina's wrist, just in case. "So, what's your name, Mister Wizard?"

"Emma!" Regina whispered, admonishing. "Our apologies, sir. We did not mean to intrude…"

"Girl, please save yourself the embarrassment of adding perjury to trespass," he interrupted.

"Say what?" Emma snapped. "What's purr, per, purse, jury…?"

"Perjury," he repeated, now standing on the other side of the pedestal from the girls. "It means to lie. You did mean to intrude, even if it was only to slake a passing fancy of curiosity. Nevertheless, your apologies are accepted."

"You never answered my question," Emma pointed out.

"Hm?" the man hid his smile beneath his white beard. "Didn't I? Oh dear, how inhospitable of me. People know me as Merlin, the magician. My name is Myrddin Emrys, however. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Emma was gob-smacked. She'd begun to doubt whether she was actually having a dream or not by this point. Pointing, mouth hanging open, she asked, "You-you're Merlin? _The_ Merlin?!"

"Indeed," he bowed his head.

"My name is Regina, sir, daughter of Prince Henry and the Lady Cora. This is my friend, Emma Swan. I… apologize, but… I've never heard of you, sir," Regina curtseyed. "Are you from a neighboring kingdom? Are you perhaps from Emma's home? Could you help her to return?"

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," he bowed in greeting. "I have heard of your parents and was present at your naming, my dear. I daresay that both of them would be appalled at your actions today," he gave them both a wink and said, "Good for you."

Regina could only blush and try not to crumple before her friend and this powerful wizard.

"As for you, my dear, I think you're more of a duckling than a swan," he said to Emma.

"No jokes about being an ugly duckling!" Emma snarled. Apparently that particular parable was a sore point for her with her chosen surname. Still, she wouldn't change it for anything.

"I would never dare," Merlin vowed. "So, what, other than curiosity, brings two ducklings to my doorsteps, hm?"

"Just that, really," Emma answered with a casual shrug. "Regina and her dad were getting me some new clothes and stuff, and I spotted your castle here. When she explained that a wizard lived here, I wanted to see some more magic stuff, seeing as her mom wasn't in the mood to deal with curious kids. I don't think she likes kids at all, really."

"Hm, having met Miss Regina's mother on more than one occasion, I can in all honesty say that that does not surprise me," he said. "So, you just came to see some magic then? Nothing else?"

"We meant no harm, sir," Regina quickly excused them. "Emma is telling the truth, we were only curious."

"We, huh?" Emma smiled at her friend, who smiled right back.

"Indeed?" Merlin asked, pacing around the pedestal again, giving them a pointed look.

"Well…" Regina said after a tense silence.

"I thought as much," he chuckled. "Well, out with it, timid duckling."

Emma tried to smother her giggling, at which point Regina glared at her, but continued anyway. "You see, sir, Emma is… well, lost. She just appeared on the edge of our property this morning and came running from the woods wearing the strangest garments while I was out riding my horse. If, being as great and powerful a wizard as Emma says you are, then perhaps you could help her find her way home?"

"Alright, how could you not know who Merlin is?!" Emma yelled at her friend, hands thrown up in expression of her exasperation and disbelief.

"As you said, I don't get out much," Regina said with her nose in the air. Then she looked downcast as she admitted, "And my tutors tend to avoid speaking of the magic users of other lands, if they speak of magic at all."

"Oookay, fair enough," Emma shrugged. "So, is King Arthur kicking around here somewhere?"

"Ah, yes, I begin to understand," Merlin replied with a full belly laugh. "Sadly, my… duckling," Emma scowled and now it was Regina smothering her giggles, "the Arthur that you speak of is several hundred years dead and gone. And to answer your questions, my dear Regina, I am from the kingdom of Camelot. It is across the ocean from here, but a very real place in this realm. I know of which realm you come from, Miss Swan, but it is not within any magician's power to reach it. For it is a realm without magic and without that, traversing the realms becomes a great deal more dangerous."

"Then how did I get here in the first place?" Emma asked, concerned over the thought of never going home, if only because she'd miss having baths the normal way, not to mention the food, TV, and all the other modern amenities. And she _hated_ dresses!

"Hm, well, if for nothing else, I suppose I owe you for an interesting afternoon," Merlin chuckled. "If you would, both of you, reach out and touch the Eye, please. Not to worry, it shall not harm you. As I said, it only reveals the truth of things. There you are." He then turned his attention to the now brightly glowing crystal ball.

"Awesome," Emma commented. "Way better than anything you'd see at the fortune teller booth at Coney Island!"

"Indeed," Merlin agreed, staring into the shining light of the Eye of Agamato.

"Is… do we need to do anything, or-or give you anything, Merlin, sir?" Regina asked. At Emma's curious look, she said, "My mother always tells me that magic comes with a price. At least… when she talks about her magic at all that is. Usually it is just a matter of paying the wizard's price, but sometimes…"

"Uh oh," Emma winced as she realized that her curiosity probably got her and her friend into a lot more trouble that she'd been expecting.

"Not to worry, my ladies," Merlin quickly assured them. "For this, I feel that I actually am the one in debt to the pair of you. Also, it is only dark wizards that exact a… hefty price for their services. I am but a humble magician."

"Yeah, like the most famous one ever!" Emma blurted out.

"But still humble," Merlin laughed at her enthusiasm. "You may remove your hands now. Thank you, my dears. You have actually answered a question that has plagued me for years now. What to do with the rest of my eternity, now that my friends and pupils have all gone away, now that my kingdom stands on its own and requires my aid no longer? For this, I owe you much indeed. So, I will grant you three gifts, each. The first is, my aid whenever either of you require it. This does not mean that I am at your beck and call merely that you know me and I know you and we have the chance to become friends and allies. The second, and hopefully the most useful to you, I shall tell each of you, in private of course, what I saw of your futures in the Eye of Agamato. Thirdly, you may ask, whether today or at a later time, one boon of me."

"Boon?" both girls asked in unison.

"A… favor, or perhaps even some object or power that I have in my possession that you desire, something along those lines," he explained.

"Awesome!" Emma crowed.

"Amazing! Thank you, sir!" Regina cried out.

"Ah, you say that now, but just wait a bit before deciding anything. After all, your future may not be what you expect of it and waiting to call on a favor might be in your best interest, hm?"

"Can I have Excalibur?" Emma asked instantly.

"No," Merlin said just as quickly.

Regina couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Emma's face, so much so that she forgot to ask what 'Excalibur' actually was.

"Can't blame a girl for trying," she said with a shrug. "So, Mister Wizard, what's my fortune?"

Glancing outside at the setting sun, he looked back at them and replied, "Yes, seeing that time is against us, we'd best address the more important matters first. Please, let us adjourn to some place more comfortable. No harm will come to you within these walls, you have my word. I think I'll speak to Emma first, if you don't mind waiting, Regina? There are refreshments if you require them."

"Thank you, sir," she curtseyed once more as the magician lead them to a sitting room further down the hallway.

"Oh, none of that, if you please," he said. "I'm a magician, not a knight. You may call me Merlin. As I said, most do. Now then, don't mind Archimedes, he's always a bit restless in the first of the evening. Refreshments are on the table. Emma, if you wouldn't mind?" He opened a side door to a private study from the sitting room.

Sitting behind the large desk, reminiscent of a few principal desks she'd seen in her time, Merlin casually gestured for her to sit in one of the two chairs in front of said desk. Hiding her nervousness behind a mask of indifference, she put herself on the edge of the seat and looked at the magician expectantly.

"Emma Swan, eight years old, found on the side of the highway in Maine, in the arms of a little boy, wrapped up in a blanket with her name sewn into it," he began, stunning her more and more with every word. "You've been through nine different homes, four before you could even walk. Met a book shop owner the other day on your birthday, where he gave you a rather special gift, and told you that emotion was the key, but control was the key to emotion, or something like that? Hm?"

"How…" Emma stopped herself and asked a more valid question, as the answer to the first was rather obvious at this point. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just getting a bit of background out of the way," Merlin said with a shrug. "I will tell you this, so that you don't waste time in the future searching for the answer. Your parents loved you. Well, love you, as they are still alive. They were forced to give you up. Not due to financial misfortune or any other horror stories you've heard, my dear. They were forced to give you up to save your life. If they had not done what they did, you would be dead. Eight years dead to be precise."

Emma gulped and did her best to keep from jumping up and running away as fast as her little legs could carry her. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she would not let them fall. Merlin, showing more compassion and understanding than any adult she'd ever met, patiently waited for her to compose herself, even conjuring a box of tissues on her side of the desk if she needed it. She did smile a bit at the display of magic.

Once she'd calmed herself and nodded for him to continue, he breathed a slow sigh as he proceeded to give her the 'fortune' he'd seen in his 'crystal ball'.

"One day, not any time soon I'm afraid, but one day you will find and learn of what happened to your parents. If you read that book I mentioned to the end, you already suspect what happened. It is the truth. And one day you'll meet them again."

At that announcement, Emma could no longer hold back the tears, but Merlin continued nevertheless.

"That, as they say, is the good news. To explain some things, that book you have? It is something of a history book."

"But, it's my story," Emma sniffled.

"Indeed," Merlin nodded, "Which is why I said it was _something_ of a history book, instead of identifying it as just that. I can only guess as to how, but you used that book to put yourself _inside_ one of the stories you were reading. Specifically, the story of young Regina."

"What? But, how could I… wait, are you saying I went back in time?!" Emma yelled.

"As well as crossed from your realm, a realm with no magic, into ours. One or the other is difficult. Both, at the same time? The common term for such a feat, Emma, is called a miracle. The amount of power required to do what you've done is staggering to imagine. Unless, of course, certain… precautions are put in place."

"Precautions?" she repeated, growing suspicious.

"I do not know this, only suspect, but," Merlin shifted nervously now, drawing a grin from the mischievous Swan, "I think that the man that gave you your book, your story, was me. My future self. Somehow he created it to… augment your own natural magical talents. Think of it as a lens, or perhaps even better, a telescope. All you have to do is focus on your destination, the 'story' in the book, and channel your magic appropriately."

"So… do I need the book to get back?" she asked.

Shaking his head, he explained, "No. You see, all magic comes with a price, just as young Regina said. And the price of traversing time and the realms would be twofold. Either it would require the greatest sacrifice imaginable to empower the magic, whether it be curse or artifact or miracle. Or…"

"Or?" she said when he left it hanging.

"Or it would be temporary," he concluded. "From what the Eye showed me, you will only be able to stay in this realm for one day. Twenty-four hours to the minute. So, the good news in that is that you'll soon find yourself back home. The rather sad fact of the matter is that you'll be saying goodbye to your friend much sooner than either of you expected."

"Oh," Emma looked down, suddenly not that eager to go back. She wanted to ask, she even looked up and opened her mouth, but Merlin beat her to the punch.

"There is no way to extend your time. You may come back as often as you wish, but you will still leave after one day. And it would be a day for a day. By that, I mean that you won't be able to return for at least twenty four hours after you return."

"OK," the blond girl nodded, understanding what she'd been told so far. "Now, about my future? When… can you tell me how long before I can meet my parents?"

Merlin leaned back in his chair, his eyes unfocused, seeing beyond the current surroundings. Finally, he said to her, "At least… yes, at least twenty more years for you, I'm afraid. Any sooner and… well, let's just say that there was a reason your parents sent you away and for _at least_ the next twenty years, that reason will still exist."

"_Twenty years_?!" she screamed again, actually getting to her feet. "That's not fair!"

Smiling understandingly at her, he nodded. "No, no it is not fair. And if there was anything that I could do for you, to change that for you, I would my dear. But there are some things that are beyond even Merlin the Magician's power to change."

"Some help you are!" Emma raged, pacing around the room furiously. "Why can't you just take me to them instead of giving me a stupid book for my birthday, huh?! Better yet, why don't you effing _adopt_ me?! If that really was you in the book store, huh? Why does the world hate me!"

Merlin was there to catch her when she collapsed, crying uncontrollably, shaking and wailing in his arms. Holding the emotionally distraught destined savior of the Enchanted Forest Realm in his arms, Merlin just about broke down himself. Whispering to the wailing girl in his arms, he said, "I'll see what I can do."

A few minutes, and an awkward exchange later, Regina was sitting there in front of Merlin's desk, looking as skittish as a mouse in the lion's den.

"You," Merlin began, seeing odd parallels between this conversation and another between himself and a young boy that had the telling name of Arthur Pendragon, "Regina, daughter of Henry, son of King Xavier, have a destiny. A very important and terrifying destiny."

"I… I do?" she whispered, shrinking in on herself. Compared to the vision he'd received of who and what she would become, Merlin forced himself not to do a double-take. It was more striking than night and day.

"Yes, I'm afraid that you do. Thanks to your mother and several other forces at work," Merlin told her as gently as possible, which given the news wasn't gentle enough. "I would tell you what your destiny entails, even map it out for you so you can know exactly what to expect, when, what, and how to deal with it so you'll be able to make your own decisions about your destiny. But to be quite frank with you, my dear, if I were to do so, you would not understand it and your life would be that much worse as those others would merely change their manipulations to take into account your own actions."

"So… so I have no choice?"

The black haired princess said that with far too much resignation for Merlin to just sit by and do nothing about it.

"The end result? No, you and Emma will end up where you end up, I cannot change that," Merlin said with much regret. "But." He suddenly smiled brightly, startling the girl into her own grin of happiness. "But life, despite what most say, is not about the destination. It is about the journey. And between now and your eighteenth birthday, I shall do everything in my not inconsiderable power, to make yours and Emma's journey as fun and interesting as possible."

"But… how? And, if my destiny is so truly terrible, why not… why not end me, sir? So that I cannot harm others? Or even to spare my pain?" she asked.

"For those that are truly good," Merlin answered her, "killing is never the answer. There is always a way. Try and remember that, Regina. When things are at their darkest and most terrible, remember that there is always a way. It may be painful, illogical, even crazy, but there is always a way, so that everybody lives."

"As for how," he smiled once more and stood up to walk around to her side of the desk, "well, that is where Emma comes in. She is a stranger to our lands, and she needs a guide."

"A guide?" Regina repeated, her curiosity piqued.

"Yes, a guide," he nodded in confirmation. "Someone that _does_ know our world and can explain things to her. Who people are, the names of places and things, how to ride a horse…" he trailed off there at that.

"I… I could do that," she said, her face lighting up.

"Hm? Could you? Well, then, let us see about making that official, shall we?" Merlin walked back around the desk and sorted through a few of the drawers before coming up with a small medallion. On an adult, it would have been a very tight fitting necklace, but on a child of Regina's stature, she could hide it easily beneath her dresses.

"I, Mryddin Emrys of Camelot, Merlin the Magician, hereby dub thee, Regina, daughter of Henry, son of Xavier, my emissary with Emma Swan, charging her with the task of guiding and aiding our duckling in my absence."

Regina giggled, but maintained her composure enough to curtsey and bow her head so that he could place the medallion around her neck.

"There, now it is official. And," he put his finger along the side of his nose, "more importantly you can now go to wherever Emma is when she needs you. She won't always appear on the edge of your estate, and it would be dreadfully boring if she only ever visited your home."

"Thank you, sir—Merlin," Regina quickly corrected herself. "I shall perform my duties to the best of my abilities."

"See that you do," Merlin said. "Between her visits, it would be best if you took your studies more seriously, and started looking into the names of neighboring kingdoms and their leaders, customs, so that you could explain them to Emma wherever you end up. I assure you, the two of you will end up having great fun to make up for your loss of free time."

"I will do my best!" Regina promised, her eyes sparkling at the challenge.

"Excellent!" Merlin clapped his hands. "Ah, look at the time. Best you two were off. Emma shall return to her world during the night. When asked by your parents, tell them that she went to bed alongside you and you never awoke or knew that she had left till the morning. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Regina acknowledged. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"It was my pleasure, Regina," Merlin laughed. "My pleasure indeed."

–_108 Mifflin Lane, Storybrooke, ME–_

They made their way back to the kitchen after putting Henry to bed. There was an uncomfortable silence filling the air between them, broken only when Regina decided it was better to fall back on hostess instincts than let the tension continue.

"How would you like some of the best apple cider on the East Coast?"

"Got anything stronger?"

"Should we really take things in that direction, after so long?" she replied.

"Bring on the cider!" Emma said overly enthusiastic.

Once they each had a full glass of her homemade apple cider, and a few sips to loosen the tension, at least a little bit, Regina had finally lost her patience over the question she could feel burning on Emma's lips, even from several feet away. "Ask," she said, taking another swig.

"Who are you?"

Brow raised, Regina didn't bother to say anything, letting her look speak for her.

"I mean, you're Gin, obviously," Emma said, trying to explain herself. "My friend, my partner, my guide, my… well, you are Regina Mills. Obviously. But I'm, other than Emma Swan, the Ugly Duckling that became the Beautiful Swan, but I'm also the universally known magic thief _Swan_. I'm the apprentice of Merlin, the Savior, and the Realm Crosser. So, who are you?"

"Are you sure you want to know?" Regina whispered.

"In the Book, you were destined to be the Evil Queen, the woman that tried to kill my mother, Snow White, and the person to curse the realms," Emma said, taking a long pull of her cider.

"It's true," Regina said, not even considering the possibility of lying to her old friend. "I'm the Evil Queen. And I cast the curse and brought everyone of the Enchanted Forest to this magic-less world and placed them here in the town of Storybrooke. Henry's right."

"Cool," Emma nodded her head.

Regina shot her another double-take. "Cool?!"

"Yep, very cool in fact," Emma nodded.

"How is me being the Evil Queen, _cool_?"

"So were you a black crown?" Emma questioned her, rather than answer.

That term gave the mayor pause. Her first instinct was to scream 'No!', scandalized at the very thought. Then she actually thought about it. A full minute later, she finally admitted, both to herself and to her blond friend, "Not… exactly. I made, I let everyone believe that I was, but…"

"But you never took that leap, did you?" Emma confirmed. Regina shook her head.

"I suppose I became more of what you'd call a… red crown."

"Not gray?" Emma sounded surprised.

"I may not have actually let blood get on them, but my hands were responsible for a great many deaths. I… I killed. I'm a murderer, Swan," tears started to pool in her brown eyes.

"Bull shit," the blue-eyed blond scoffed, drawing an angry glare from the guilt-ridden woman.

Before she could actually say anything, Emma continued to explain exactly _why_ that was bull shit. "First off, you were a queen, yes?" Mute with growing anger, Regina could only nod. "Second, the people you killed, as in personally killed, were they foreign dignitaries or nobility or even members of your own court?" Frowning, Regina conceded that when she had been responsible for those sorts of deaths, she'd worked through proxies and other agents, not actually killing those people herself. "Lastly, have you ever _actually_ crushed a heart in your hand?"

Regina startled, looking at the woman across from her with fear filled eyes. How did she know? How _could_ she know? Slowly, and only because she was absolutely certain they were alone and it was just her and Swan, she shook her head. No, she'd never actually crushed a heart in her hand, the pinnacle of dark magic skill.

"I…" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion, "I did a heart swap, each and every time. Switching the heart for a fake, making the magic coincide with the magical release normally associated with the destruction of a heart. I just made them pass out and slow their breathing to nothing with the real heart. Banishing them with new faces and no memories was easy after that. How did you know?"

Emma just smirked at her, refusing to answer as she finished off her apple cider.

"How did you know?" she repeated.

"I'll answer that if you answer this," Emma said. "When was the last time that you thought about me and our adventures? I mean, really went over it in your mind, reminiscing, taking a walk down memory lane, think about me?"

"Ah…" Regina made to answer, but then her jaw snapped shut. Her brow creased as she frowned and her eyes flashed back and forth as she tried to come up with an answer. She blinked and stared at the blond woman with wide, shocked eyes. "It… it's been… years. I, I remembered you, but the last time that I actually thought about you was… shortly after I met Daniel. And then he, and then I was rather distracted by things. And then…"

"Time slipped by," Emma finished for the brunette woman. "Same thing happened to me. I wasn't visiting the Enchanted Forest every other day, and so I got on with my life and dealt with the present. Then, after I couldn't find the book, I didn't really have much opportunity to remember the end of said book; Rumplestiltskin's curse. Evil Queen getting rid of all the Happy Endings. Snow and Charming sending their child, _me_, to safety. And…"

"The postcard," Regina gasped. "I… oh god, I sent the post card and, I didn't even question it. I just saw the date circled in my appointment book and… How did I forget? How did you forget? And for the last time, _how did you know_?"

"Life," Emma shrugged. "As for the other... We knew you'd become the Evil Queen and I took you to that one place so we could both learn how to 'fake' dark magic. I didn't even remember that until I asked you about it just now."

"I… yes, I remember now," Regina nodded her head. "My word. It's been _years_!"

"More for you than for me," she joked.

"Laugh it up, Swan," she sighed. "Laugh it up."

"Thanks, I intend to," the blond laughed into her empty glass. Regina rolled her eyes and then poured her another, refilling her own at the same time.

"Been practicing your magic?" Emma asked, to move the conversation along.

Arching one perfect dark eyebrow at her old friend, the mayor rhetorically asked her, "I'm sure that you heard how I cursed an entire population to a magic-_less_ realm, so why would you ask me such a silly question, my dear?"

Shooting back a raised eyebrow of her own, Emma replied with the question, "How do you think I _practiced_ while I was away, or between adventures?"

Regina blinked, did a _triple_-take at the smug blond woman and then frowned. "You're saying there is magic here?"

"I'm saying that _you_ have magic, same as me," she shrugged. "The… obvious stuff; teleportation, telekinesis, elemental control, transformation, all of that is… more difficult and requires a lot of power. So you either have to build it up or tap into a source of magic. Small stuff, all my 'tricks'? All that works just fine." She took another sip of her refilled glass.

"Prove it," Regina growled.

Emma just shrugged and then reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out... Regina's watch? Looking quickly to her wrist, the brunette saw that the piece of jewelry was indeed missing. Frowning, she grabbed it back, saying, "Cute. But not what I had in mind."

"What part of 'the obvious stuff is more difficult' was hard to understand?" she retorted. "My tricks and a really weak version of Perception Filter and downright pathetic Invisibility is all that works without a bit of preparation. Although, it is really nice to know that I can pull off everything David Copperfield can without any of the same props, not really all that conducive to convincing someone that magic is real, or works."

"Maybe if you tried something that wasn't just the magical version of picking someone's pocket?" she prompted. "Sawing me in half perhaps?"

"OK, maybe I should have used Derren Brown as an example," she sheepishly admitted. "Point is, I can do what any street magician can with zero prep time, unwilling participants and no props. If you want me to light a candle for you, or boil some water, make ice, put a chill in the air, or even take a punch like an old oak tree, I can do that too, it'll just take me a few minutes to gather then energy."

"Like an old tree? Not a mountain?" Regina teased.

"That's the big, obvious stuff again," Emma pointed out.

"Fine, show me this 'downright pathetic' invisibility then? I'll recognize it for magic, even if it is as you say pathetic," she said.

Emma shrugged, and then suddenly she wasn't in the room.

Regina blinked and cast her eyes all around the room and kept going between the door and where she'd been sitting, but there was no trace of her at all! She remembered her old friend Swan being good, especially at hiding and sneaking about, but this was...

"Ah!" she let out a yell when she felt a hand that she couldn't _see_ on her thigh. A heartbeat and an eye blink later, she could once again perceive Emma, sitting there beside her on the loveseat. She'd also forgotten how disconcerting that sort of thing was... er, when on the receiving end that is. "Was scaring me half to death really necessary?"

"No, but it was fun," the blond gave her an impish grin.

"How did you do that? How does it work?" she asked, quickly getting over her embarrassment.

Emma shrugged, eyes rolling up in thought for a moment, before focusing back on her and she asked, "What was your favorite spell, once you'd gotten a hold on magic, I mean? After you started learning, what of the – no doubt – thousands of spells that you mastered did you use repeatedly, day after day, several times a day even? If it was teleporting, telekinesis, transfiguration or elemental powers, disregard them."

Regina considered several times before answering and frowned at the answer. "Switching. A-and m-memory spells," she finally said with no small amount of regret.

"OK, switching we can do," Emma said, ignoring the implications for the moment. "Kind of an extra step to what I did with your watch there. So, we'll keep it simple and then, same as I did, you'll practice more on your own. Switch our watches. Although, I fully expect this back just so we're clear."

"Alright," Regina said with a gulp. Then, while glancing back and forth between her own wrist and the one Emma was holding up, until she held up her other hand and twitched her wrist like she was swishing an imaginary wand. Nothing happened.

"You do know that that hand gestures do absolutely nothing, right?"

Frowning, Regina tried again, focusing her anger and frustration to channel the magic as she once did.

"OK, that right there, that's not going to work here," Emma interrupted her.

"What? I'm doing what you said!"

"No, you were trying to _channel_ the magic," she pointed out. "Channel as in, to draw from an available source. There's not magic to _channel_ anymore. You have to use what you've got instead. Back to basics. Clear your mind, focus on the goal, everything else is just a way of circling back to the goal. Will it to happen. Don't try to channel or draw on anything, just... will it, focusing on nothing but the goal."

The brown-eyed brunette took a deep, calming breath and kept her eyes locked on the two watches. And suddenly, she blinked and the large round leather strapped contraption was on her wrist while her jewelry piece was on Swan's. It... it had been easy, she realized with a start.

"See, knew you could do it," Emma grinned and almost casually switched their watches back.

"Why would you show me that?" she asked after a heavy minute of silence.

"Why wouldn't I?" was the reply.

"I'm the Evil Queen," she said, her tone dark.

"And I'm a magic thief," she shrugged, sipping her apple cider.

"You're the Saviour," she insisted.

"Apparently," the blond shrugged, "but I was the magic-using thief _Swan_ first. And you're my friend, Gin. We've saved each others lives... I don't know how many times. We showed each other our respective worlds. So Merlin showed me magic and you learned from, uh..."

"Rumplestiltskin," the brunette supplied with a dry tone.

"Really?" Emma's eyes went wide. "Well, that explains a few things."

"And what things might those be?"

Emma wisely decided she was not going to answer that one.

"You're not even going to ask about your parents?" she asked with a wicked smile.

Giving her friend an odd look, the reply was surprising. "Why would I?"

Blinking off her shock with a practiced ease, Regina tried a different tactic. "How long are you planning on staying in town for, Swan?"

"I wasn't," she shrugged. "I was just here to drop the kid off. Although, now that I know you're here, I'll be sure to drop by now and again. We can catch up on old times."

It was becoming more and more difficult to hide her confusion and surprise with each passing moment. "I'm sorry? You're not staying? After everything, you're not even going to try and break the curse?"

"It's your curse," she said, sipping the last of her cider, "do you want it broken?"

"Of course not. It's _my_ happy ending!" she said angrily.

"Well, there you go," Emma put down her glass, getting to her feet, Regina rising with her. "Although, you're actually wrong about that."

"Wrong about what?" Regina demanded, following the blond out into the foyer.

"It's not your 'happy ending', Gin," she explained, stopping by the door. "That's what the curse does, remember? It gets rid of _all_ the happy endings. Including yours. Until it is broken, you're in the same purgatory that everyone else is."

"That's ridiculous!" the brunette exclaimed.

"You know what the old man told me, that first day? Hm? That if my parents hadn't sent me through that wardrobe, I would be dead. Killed by _your men_," she poked the other woman in the chest. "Because if I hadn't gone through the wardrobe, then I wouldn't have gotten that book from you know who when I was eight, I wouldn't have gone back and met you, we wouldn't have made it so you could be a red crown instead of a black crown, and you would not be raising my child as your son. A child that says you don't love him. Let's face it, _Regina_, as long as this curse is unbroken, you _can't_ love him. The curse creates a hole in your heart, and until it is broken, that hole cannot be filled. Same catch 22 that we faced the last time we saw one another."

Regina's face was unreadable as Emma finished speaking. When she finally could, she reached around and opened the door and said, "Good night, Miss Swan. Please stop by again soon."

Frowning, she tried to get a read on her old friend anyway, but was frustrated that nothing came of it. "Yeah, good night. 'Bye," she said just as the door was slammed, practically in her face.

"Way to go Swan, way to go," she grumbled to herself, walking back to her car in silence.

Fifteen minutes later, she was just coming up on the sign saying "You Are Now Leaving STORYBROOKE", mind lost in memory and regrets. That was probably why she didn't see it at first, but just twenty feet from the sign, she saw a wolf standing in the middle of the road, staring right at her, and close enough that she could see that it had one red eye and one black eye. She tried to avoid it, even stop in case there were more, but the rain had started up again and apparently it was enough to send her into a skid. She crashed into the trees beside the sign, knocking herself out on the steering wheel. If she'd been conscious, she would have seen that the wolf had vanished without a trace.

_Continued..._


	3. II

II.

Emma awoke with a groan as the sunlight hit her right in the face. Her head hurt and she was lying on a mattress on a hard surface. And somebody was whistling 'Whistle While You Work', which was _really_ annoying! Sitting up, she found herself in one of three cells of a small town sheriff office, where the holding cells, bullpen, and office were all part of the same room. In the far cell from hers, she found the source of the whistling, a bald, bearded, grumpy-looking drunk. That... looked... exactly... like... Grumpy the dwarf...

Swell.

"What are you looking at, sister?" he growled at her.

"Hey, Leroy—manners!" another man, outside the cages and dressed as some kind of janitor said. "We have a guest! So you are eh, Henry's mother. How lovely for him to have you back in his life."

"Actually, I was just dropping him off," she answered, sitting up and working the kinks out.

"Tch," Leroy/Grumpy sneered. "Don't blame ya. They're all brats, who needs'em."

"Well, I'd give anything for one," the janitor said. "My wife and I, we tried for many years, but, uh... it was not meant to be."

"Well cry me a river," Leroy mocked.

Let's see, Emma silently mused to herself, if that's Grumpy, then... well, given the way he talked about having a kid, this must be Pinnochio's dad. Huh, sweet old guy, don't see why the bastard wound up leaving me on my own in the end, but can't do anything about that now.

At that moment, Sheriff Ruggedly Handsome came waltzing in. He stopped off at Grumpy's cell first, saying, " Leroy! I'm going to let you out; you need to behave. Put on a smile, and stay out of trouble." The cursed dwarf walked out of the cell, put on a big cheesy, fake, smile and then walked off.

Emma went up up to the barred door of her cell, getting the man's attention. "Seriously?" she asked.

"Regina's drink's a little stronger than we thought," he said with a shrug.

"I wasn't drunk," she insisted. "There was a wolf, standing in the middle of the road."

"A wolf. Right," the sheriff nodded his head, playing along.

"Graham?" a familiar voice called out, preceding the owner by moments. "Henry's run away again, we have to—oh." Regina came into the room and saw Emma in the cell. "Well," she couldn't help commenting, "this certainly brings back a few memories. I thought you'd decided to leave and come back later, Swan?"

"Laugh it up, Gin," she said. "What was that about the kid?"

"He wasn't in his room this morning," the brunette answered immediately, before her expression turned somewhat dark. "Do you know where he is?"

"Gin, I haven't seen him since we both tucked him into bed last night and," she drummed her fingers on the bars of her cell, "a pretty good alibi. Did you try his friends?"

"He... doesn't really have any. Kind of a loner," she answered somewhat reluctantly.

"Every kid has friends. Did you check his computer? If he was close to someone he'd be emailing them," she suggested.

"And you know this, how?"

"Finding people's what I do. Here's an idea; how 'bout you guys let me out, and I'll help you find him."

"Fine," Regina agreed immediately, "Where is he?"

Emma just shot her a 'Are you serious?' look while the Sheriff opened her cell, hiding his own version of the same look from the Madam Mayor. Stepping out of the cell, the blond replied, "I already told you I don't know. And before you say anything else, let me just say this; It. Doesn't. Work. Like. That. Now, computer?"

With a heavy sigh, the mayor of Storybrooke turned and lead them all back to her house and to Henry's room ultimately. Sitting down at the desktop, Emma quickly ran through the usual checks. "Smart kid. Cleared his inbox. I'm smart too, a little hard disk recovery utility I like to use should show us what we're looking for."

Crouched down beside her, the Sheriff, having been introduced to her as Graham Humbert, looked on in a small bit of awe as he commented, "I'm a bit more old-fashioned, in my techniques. Pounding the pavement, knocking on doors, that sort of thing."

"Yeah, well, you're on salary," she said back, working through the utility quickly, "I get paid for delivery. Pounding pavement is not a luxury that I get. Ah, there's a receipt for a website, whosyourmomma dot org—it's expensive. Does he have a credit card?"

"He's ten," Regina pointed out the obvious as disdainfully as possible.

"Well, he used one," she pointed at the screen. "Let's pull up a transaction record. Mary Margaret Blanchard, who's Mary Margaret Blanchard?"

Regina's face scrunched up with the most unique combination of disgust, anger, annoyance, and resignation that Emma had ever seen on the human face, before instantly being covered by her long-practiced mask of indifference. After a beat, she finally answered, "Henry's teacher."

Less than fifteen minutes later, they were at the Catholic school, the only school in the district that Emma could see, which actually explained a lot, and more specifically outside the door of the classroom of the 4th Grade teacher, Ms. Mary Margaret Blanchard. Fortunately, the class was just about to break for recess, so they didn't have to wait long for the teacher to finish her lesson and the bell to ring and the students to all go rushing outside to play.

"Miss Mills, what are you doing here?" Mary Margaret asks once the last student has left.

"Where's my son?" Regina asks without preamble.

"Henry? I assumed he was at home with you when he wasn't in class," she innocently answered.

"You think I'd be here if he was? Did you give him your credit card so he can find her?" she pointed at the blond in the red jacket that followed behind.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" the pixie-cut brunette asked Emma.

"Complicated," Emma summarized with a flat grin.

"The woman who carried him for nine months and went through hours of labor pains on his behalf," Regina remarked. Emma rolled her eyes at her.

"You're Henry's birth mother," Mary Margaret nodded with understanding. She was already reaching for her purse, a pinched look on her pale features.

"You don't know anything about this, do you?" Emma realized after reading the woman's expression.

"No, unfortunately not," she shook her head. After searching through her wallet, she finds the spot where the missing credit card had been, once upon a time. "Clever boy. I shouldn't have given him that book."

"Book?" Emma and Regina both ask at the same time.

"Just some old stories I gave him," Mary Margaret explained to the mayor. "As you well know, Henry is a special boy: so smart, so creative, and as you might be aware, _lonely_. He needed it."

"Where did _you_ find it? To give to him, that is," Emma asked before Regina could lose her temper.

"I, huh, I'm not sure really," she answers, honestly confused. "I just came across it one day while cleaning out my closet. I must have always had it, but I can't remember where I got it from."

Emma spun on the spot and whispered quietly to Regina, "Why does that answer sound, oh, vaguely familiar?" The brunette turned toward her, hiding her face with her longer hair and replied, "You think that the book is part of the Curse? Henry's book?" The blonde shrugged, keeping the conversation quiet, "It would explain a few things. For one, why it's incomplete and, from what little I read of it, biased in the extreme. Curses have to have a way to be broken, it is what makes them so damn powerful in the first place. If somebody made this one breakable by very specific conditions..." They both nodded as Regina finished the statement, "... that makes it all the more powerful as it can then only be broken in one way. By the savior."

"Uh, is there, uh, anything else that I, um, can help you ladies with?" Mary Margaret interrupts.

Emma subtly gestures for Regina to give her a few moments alone with the teacher. She does catch the sign, but can only look on suspiciously for a few moments before ultimately deciding that she probably wouldn't want to bother with such a conversation in the first place. Turning abruptly, she practically snarls at Mary Margaret, just in such a way that an outside party wouldn't actually call it snarling, "No, apparently you can't, Ms. Blanchard. This is a waste of time." To Emma, she says for their audience's benefit, "Have a nice trip back to Boston." She then storms out, intentionally knocking some books off a nearby desk on her way past, not bothering to so much as glance back. The Sheriff was quick to follow.

Emma and Mary Margaret both stoop to pick up the books. Helping the teacher where she can, the blond apologizes to the pixie-cut brunette with, "Sorry to bother you."

"No, it's—it's okay," the teacher immediately waves off the apology, "I fear this is partially my fault."

"How is a book supposed to help?" she asked as they stood to their feet.

"What do you think stories are for?" Mary Margaret replies as she gathers her things and they walk out of the classroom. "These stories? The classics? There's a reason we all know them. They're a way for us to deal with our world. A world that doesn't always make sense. See, Henry hasn't had the easiest life."

"I don't know about that. Compared to a lot of people, he's living it up, but yeah, she's kind of a hard ass," Emma conceded.

"No, it's more than her," Mary Margaret said. "He's like any adopted child. He wrestles with that most basic question they all inevitably face: why would anyone give me away?" Suddenly realizing what she'd just said, the woman paled even further and tried to apologize. "I am _so_ sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean in any way to judge you..."

"It's OK," Emma shrugged it off, though privately she cannot deny what she said has the ring of truth.

"Look, I gave the book to him because I wanted Henry to have the most important thing anyone can have; hope. Believing in even the _possibility_ of a happy ending is a very powerful thing."

Studying the teacher's face for a few moments, she quickly deduced, "You know where he is, don't you?"

"You might want to check his castle," was all that she would say.

–_Twelve Years Ago–_

"What do you mean you _lost_ it!?" 16-year-old Emma Swan shouted over her shoulder at her brunette companion, 17-year-old (by a month and a week) Regina Mills.

"I mean," the primly-dressed aristocrat said even as she ran and jumped through the woods like a squire in training, "I lost it! It vanished right out of my hands! Magically faded away! Poof, as you are so fond of saying! Now stop yelling at me and run faster!"

They were currently running through the woods of the infinite forest, being chased by trolls, vultures, and elves. The vultures were only a problem out in the open or if they were slow to dodge around trees. And while the trolls were slow over distance, they made up for it in stamina. The elves were the real troublemakers, however, being much faster than the two human girls, and able to run for longer than even the trolls. Add to it, the normal dangers of the infinite forest, and one could understand why Emma was so upset that Regina had lost their only way out of the magical trap.

"How do you anger trolls _and_ elves, anyway?" Regina queried in a breathless moment as they sprinted.

"Well," Emma said as they rounded one tree, then three more, going in a different direction each time, "trolls you piss off the same way you'd tick off just about anyone, just with less effort. They're so sensitive," she teased, saying it loud enough that there was a fresh roar of anger and rage from their pursuers. "Elves, on the other hand. They are a bit more... tolerant, except when it comes to trespassing."

Regina shot her blond compatriot a dirty look. "Swan, all you do is trespass."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"How do we get out of here?" the brunette inquired after they dodged yet another flock of vultures and avoided the 'guiding' arrows of elven archers. "This is the infinite forest. Even if we were a mile from the edge, we would be turned around to the center! Without magic..."

"I know!" Emma shouted at her. "I know! I know. Without magic, there is no way to escape these cursed woods. Even though I've done it twice."

"Then where do we go?" Regina exclaimed, her hope renewed.

Emma pulled her up short, narrowly keeping her from being shot full of arrows that landed at their feet, but would have been in their chests had they not stopped. They hopped over they arrows, continuing on the path they were on rather than allowing themselves to be directed elsewhere. "It's complicated."

"I'll follow you," the local girl assured her.

"Can't exactly... _walk _out of the infinite forest," the teen troublemaker tried to explain. "First time I got out, it was from accidentally walking right into them, and then bartering my way out through the Dwarf mines. That was the afternoon I showed up with a rock of unprocessed fairy dust, remember?"

"You were only gone for an hour and a half, at the most! How did you get lost in the infinite forest, find a Dwarf Mine, and barter your way out in that amount of time?!" Regina screeched.

"Luck, and knowing the right name to drop," Emma replied. "It's not like you haven't had your own solo adventures. Anyway, second time, I was practicing my teleporting, wound up here by mistake. Turns out, place is warded up the wazoo, took me an hour of meditating to focus enough to get back out."

"Have you gotten better? At teleporting, I mean?" Regina asked, seeing as her friend was the only one of the two of them with magic.

"Not enough that I can do it while being chased!" she pointed out.

"Then we need to lose them?"

"They're _trolls_ and _elves_!"

"So, we find a mud pit?" was the timid suggestion.

"Are you forgetting _why_ we trespassed and double crossed these guys?!"

"Oh, right. So, what do you suggest?"

"Uh, this way!" she pointed and started running, the older girl right behind her.

The arrows suddenly stopped and after they passed a unique boulder configuration, even some of the trolls slowed down or backed off. Regina, too focused on following her friend through the underbrush, never noticed. Emma, on the other hand, had been counting on it. It is when they come to a veritable wall of bushes and small trees, the air humming with the echo of thundering noise, that the blond pulls them both up short, their pursuers barely a hundred yards away and closing rapidly.

"Swan? What...?" the brunette stuttered.

"Do you trust me?" she asked, taking the other girl's hands in her own.

Blinking, Regina sighed and said, "You're about to do something insanely foolish and mortally dangerous, aren't you?"

"Do you trust me?" she asked again, ignoring the statement, and the approaching hoard of enemies.

The girl from a land of magic and adventure and true love, who'd never experienced any of that until meeting this stranger from another realm, took her hand from the death grip it was in and placed it against the dirty cheek, staring lovingly and with absolute faith into those blue-green eyes, filled with mischief, amusement, and absolute confidence.

"Yes," she answered with a lover's whisper. "Yes, I do trust you. Now and forevermore." Then she kissed the girl on the lips.

"Good," Emma said as she opened her eyes from the brief kiss, "because you're gonna wanna kill me after this. Whatever happens, don't let go!" As she said the last bit, she'd turned to the bushes, keeping a tight hold on her friend, and just as they came out the other side to see that the ground had suddenly fallen away into a ravine—with a river at the bottom—the girls reached for each other and held one another close in their arms.

Some of the more... eager trolls, hadn't stopped and came barreling through the bushes and trees that had grown out of the side and upper edges of the ravine, and thus had nothing to stop their fall into the raging white waters below. By the time a few of them had caught a clue, they all, elves, trolls and vultures, realized that their quarry had vanished without a trace. They could only assume, and report, that the girls had fallen in the river and drowned. The bounty for Swan's head was raised rather than rescinded. It wasn't the first time the girl had vanished by faking her 'death', only to show up somewhere else causing mischief and grief.

–_Storybrooke, Present_–

"Your mom is worried about you," Emma said as she sat down beside Henry at the top of the old wooden playground castle fort. Seeing where he was staring, the clock tower in the middle of town, she inquires, "Still hasn't moved, huh?"

"I was hoping that when I brought you back, things would change here. That the final battle would begin," he said earnestly.

"Define 'battle'," she remarked. "I'll do anything to protect your happiness, kid. I just met you, and I haven't seen Gin... Regina, your mom, for years, but already I know that I love you. But I'm not going to have a great big cat fight with her over this if that's what you had in mind."

"I-I'm not sure what it means. All I know is... You're here because it's your destiny. You're going to bring back the happy endings," he said.

"Ha!" she let out a barking laugh. "Been a few years since I heard that load of crap."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"A Happy Ending, as you put it, is just the point at which everybody stopped fighting in wars. Doesn't mean that they're actually happy. And can you cut it with the destiny crap, I'm trying to have a moment here, kid," she said, pulling away slightly.

"You don't have to be hostile. I know you like me, I can tell. You're just—pushing me away because I make you feel guilty. It's okay; I know why you gave me away. You wanted to give me my best chance," Henry said to her, smiling.

She looked at him with new eyes. Before, while she'd meant what she said, it was because he was her blood and that's what you're supposed to say. And he was kinda growing on her. But that he actually understood...

"How do you know that?" she finally asked him.

"It's the same reason Snow White gave _you_ away," he answered.

She stopped herself from saying anything, looking back and forth between him and the stuck clock tower. After about half a minute of emotional silence, she said to him, "In your book, did you ever come across the story of the Ugly Duckling?"

"That's a fable, not a fairy tale," he pointed out.

"That," she looked at him, tears pooling in her eyes but not falling, "is my story. You've read about the beginning, but not the rest. Let me tell it to you?"

He nodded and sat back against one of the support posts, drawing his knees up, the same way that she had. He listened as she told him her tale, one of adventure, magic, mischief, horror, loss, love, and hope. And as he sat and listened, he learned that not everything is what it seems. The Evil Queen had already been redeemed, and the battle had been ongoing for years, long before the Savior before him was ever born, and it would continue for years to come. Their happy ending had yet to be written, but the truly awesome part was how they could write it themselves, rather than be manipulated into it by fairies, imps or wizards.

"Look," Emma said after she'd finished her story. "Your mom is trying her best. I know it's hard. And I know sometimes you think she doesn't love you. But at least she wants you. C'mon, let's go. I have to get you back to your mom."

"Can't we just..." he tried to protest.

"I've explained why already," she interrupted him. "C'mon Henry." She held out her hand, and he took it, and together they left the play ground, heading back toward his home.

A slow walk through town later, as Henry was dragging his heels at practically every opportunity, they were back at 108 Mifflin Lane, walking up the stone path to the front door. Regina was already there waiting, sans police escort this time.

"Thank you," she said as Henry hurried into the house.

"No problem," Emma shrugged, hands in her jacket pockets.

"He seems to have taken quite a shine to you," the brunette said, arms crossed.

"You know it seems kind of crazy. Yesterday was my birthday. And—when I blew out the candle on this cupcake I bought myself, I actually made a wish. That I didn't have to be alone on my birthday. And then Henry showed up. And he lead me back to you."

Regina had opened her mouth to say something, but it snapped shut after that last sentence.

"Do you remember the last thing I said to you before, well _before_?" she asked her.

"Of course," she said, a half hearted shrug with her arms still crossed and her expression closed.

"Do you really?" she asked, eyes desperate and still filled with unshed tears. "Because I still can't! It wasn't until I was talking to that little boy in there that I even _could_ remember that last day! About _why_ you still became the Evil Queen, about _why_ I didn't come running to Storybrooke the day after I got that damned postcard, and about _why_ the damned Curse was still cast in the first place! We took potions to block our memories, Regina! The only thing that kept us from forgetting each other entirely was because..."

"I've got your back and you have mine," she whispered, tears suddenly pooling in her own eyes.

"I'm their," Emma picked up the phrase, "we're square."

"Till the end, we're friends forevermore," Regina took a step closer.

"I would die for you," they finished together.

They just stood there, staring at one another for the longest time, saying nothing.

"How did we end up like this?" the dark-haired woman whispered.

"I don't know," the blond shook her head. "But we're connected by more than just our past or that kid up there. You raised my son, Regina."

"Oh, and you're blaming me for that, just like him?" she snapped, face going cold.

"No," Emma smiled, "Thanking you."

"What?" Regina was confused.

"I was in prison, Gin," she continued, stepping closer so they were practically nose to nose, Emma's hands in her jacket pockets and Regina's still crossed before her. "And I was in _no shape_ to be a mother. Arguably, I could have pulled it off, with some time and good people to trust, and a whole lot of patience on my part. So understand this, when I say that I was in no shape to be a mother, it had nothing to do with being a convict. Mentally, emotionally, in all the ways that it does matter for someone to be a parent... I. Was. Not. Hell, I'm still not!"

She turned and paced away from the woman mayor before turning back suddenly and returning to her earlier spot. "I love that little boy more and more with each passing moment of knowing him. But I am not a parent. You are."

"What do you mean?" Regina was very subtly shaking her head, but with every word out of Emma's mouth, the shaking became more and more pronounced.

"You raised my son, Gin!" she said again. "_You_ are his mother! You are a parent, and you have been for every day of his life!"

"That's right!" she interrupted. "I've changed every diaper, soothed every fever, endured _every_ tantrum. You may have given birth to him, but he is _my_ _son_!"

"You're right," Emma said, startling the once Evil Queen out of her growing tantrum. "What I'm... _trying_... to tell you—and apparently not doing a bang up job of it—I want to thank you. You got my back. You probably didn't even know it at the time, but you did. So, you've got my back, and I, Madam Mayor, Your Majesty the Evil Queen, my Bestest Friend Forevermore, have got yours. I'm never taking Henry away from you. Because he's not mine, or yours. He's... ours."

"What... what gives you the-the right to-to-to..." Regina tried to get on her high horse to shove the interloper under it, but something was preventing it. The tears weren't falling, but she couldn't be her old usual, evil self anymore. It hurt too much and the void in her heart was too deep to cross on her own.

"Henry is _our_s," Emma insisted. "And I wasn't lying before. If I had remembered, if I could have remembered, I would have made for Storybrooke the day I'd gotten out of prison, knocking on your door before the sun went down. And don't pretend for even a second that you wouldn't have let me in."

"What are you doing to me?" the Evil Queen whispered, her hands clenching at her sides where her arms were still crossed.

"Reminding you," Swan, the magic thief of the Enchanted Forest, whispered just as quietly, "Of who you _really_ are, not _what_ you are. Reminding you of what it is like not to have a hole in your heart. Reminding you that while you _do_ love our little boy, you can't show it to him as long as this damned curse is putting that void in you. Reminding you of... who we were, who we _are_, together."

"Stop it, please," the dark-eyed beauty begged, a lone solitary tear falling.

"I can do that," the blue-eyed beauty replied, moving closer. "But only if you really, really, really mean it. Just... say the word, and I'm gone. I may show up on the weekends every now and again, but I won't stay. Not... not unless I have a reason to."

"Then go," Regina begged again, unable to speak any louder. "Just... go..."

The words, '_...like before..._' were left unsaid, but heard all the louder for it.

"If that is what you really want," Emma said at normal volume, "I will. But it isn't my decision really. It's yours. Do you want this curse of yours broken? Do you want that hole in your heart finally fixed?"

"It... doesn't work like that..." she was fully shaking her head now, though what she was denying not even she could say for certain anymore.

"Yeah, it kinda does," Emma started to nod her head to counter Regina's shaking.

"Just go, Miss Swan," Regina said with greater strength, pulling herself back together, or trying to at least. "We don't need you here. You asked for a closed adoption and that means you have no legal right to Henry, and you're going to be held to that. What's more is that you never came back when you once promised me that you would always be there for me. Well, news flash, you weren't! So I suggest you get in your car, and you leave this town. Because if you don't, I _will_ destroy you if it is the last thing I do. Goodbye, Miss Swan."

Just as the regal brunette spun on her heel to leave, Emma stopped her—yet again—with a single word.

"No."

"_Excuse_ me?" she turned and snapped at the blond woman.

"No, you don't get to threaten me. Not _me_, Gin," she insisted. "But you want me to leave, fine. I give the decision on whether I stay or not in your hands. Just answer me this one question; do you love him? Henry, do you love him?"

"Of course I love him," she said in a rather flat tone, the words never quite reaching her eyes.

Emma just stares at her, looking into her eyes, into her soul, before finally just nodding her head and turning to leave. Just before the front door to the mayor's mansion is closed, however, she casts a parting shot over her shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Madam Mayor!"

Regina looked back at the retreating blond, eyes wide and nostrils flaring, anger in every cell of her stance. If she still had magic to channel, rather than the pitiful pool left in her body, she would be shooting off fireballs and everything not nailed down would be flying around her in a twist tornado. Fortunate then, that her magical reserves did not allow for that. She allowed the door to close, and unless one was standing right next to her they might have missed it, but just as the door clicked shut and gone an instant later, there was a brief smirk of satisfaction and perhaps even anticipation on the former Evil Queen's face.

–_Twelve Years Ago_–

Two drowned rats pulled themselves out of the river. One yellow, one brown. Once they were far enough up the shore, both were surrounded by white smoke with golden yellow sparks flashing throughout it, and once that smoke had cleared, they left a thoroughly soaked blond girl in tight jeans and sneakers and animal skins, and an equally soaked brunette in 'noble' traveling clothes, both lying there in the grass, breathing and happy to be alive.

"You—you could have warned me!" the brunette coughed, lying on her side.

"And let the elves and goblins know that they just needed to follow us down river? Or that I was going to transform us into something the vultures could pick up out of the drink? Oh yeah, that would have worked out real well," the blond wheezed, crawling on her hands and knees.

"What about that, that magic spell that lets you talk without speaking?" Regina asked, sitting up.

"Telepathy spell," Emma supplied, rolling onto her back once she was on the grass and out of the mud. "And you can't act worth a copper, Gin. Once you get a better poker face, I'll be sure to let you in on all my plans, but until then..."

"I still don't understand your fascination with a simple card game. Or how you always know what I have in my hand if you're not using magic! And why did you have to turn us into _rats_ of all things!" she pouted.

"A few things about that," Emma said tiredly. "One, I don't have to use magic, it is almost literally written on your face whether you think you've got a good hand or not. And for when you're not sure, I just play to your doubts and make you think I've got a better hand. Two, magic isn't that subtle. And for when it is, there's always a sign that it is in play. Glowing eyes, something out of place, a tickle at the back of your neck, or just a cold shiver in a warm room. Stuff like that. Three, why rats? Well, despite all the bad hype they get, they're actually pretty good swimmers, they're small and would have been obscured by the waves and the water, so the vultures wouldn't pluck us out of the drink, and, well, I'm still working on my fish, and it was the first thing that came to mind, otherwise I probably would have made us river otters or something. Number four, there were vultures, which is why I didn't turn into a swan and carry you out of there and just transformed you instead. And five, take a good look around, Princess. I did a lot more than use transformation magic on us."

"I'm not a princess, merely a noble's daughter," Regina corrected her, and then stopped as a very distinctive sound echoed down from the sky. Looking up, she could see only clouds and the treetops, but the noise continued to echo. Getting to her feet, she took a better look around and through the trees, maybe as much as half a mile away, she could see a paved road with the non-magical contraptions called automobiles traveling along it.

"We're in your world," she gasped. "But... how?"

"'s why I'm so exhausted," Emma said from the grass, her eyes half-closed. "First time I did it without the book. Same time limit though. Can't get around that. I'd need a portal for longer, but that wouldn't work anyway. But hey, figured I'd have my best friend here for my birthday."

"Wait, what?" Regina started. "It's your birthday? Swan! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause I wanted to get my present first," Emma giggled from the grass.

"Oh you!" the brunette then reached down and helped her blond friend to her feet.

The blond laughed and allowed herself to be pulled up. "I just needed to figure out how to channel more magic than usual, or how to hold what I've got in so it builds up. 's why we snuck into the goblin tunnels to get at their vaults."

"Because of all the magical treasures they have down there," Regina nodded, understanding. "But why did we have to then sneak into the Elves Sanctuary? And on the day that the vultures would be there themselves for that matter?"

"Well, that was just plain bad luck on our part," Emma shrugged as the two wet girls trudged through the forest toward the highway in the distance. "As for going to the Elf Sanctuary, well, that was for the latter more than the former, as Merlin would say."

"What?"

"Elves can draw in the magic of trees, the elements, and even spirits and then use it later. It is why there are so many 'kinds' of elves. They have clans that specialize in the types of magic they absorb and then later use. I was there to take a look at their scrolls and to... heh, sneak a peak at a few classes where young elves were being trained in what to do. Didn't take me long to figure out the trick to it."

"How did you even know there are elves in the infinite forest anyway?" she was asked right as they breached the tree line next to the road.

Looking down the highway in either direction, Emma spotted a few signs, identifying the road and the nearest exit and even a mile marker. Looking up, she noted the position of the sun, and also the trees around her, including the soil they were planted in. "There are elves in every forest," she answered. "And desert, and mountain and river and sea and plain. They are just really good at hiding, and they know better than to have anything to do with the kingdoms of man. All right, I know where we are now. More or less."

"How is it that you know so much? I thought _I_ was supposed to be _your_ guide!" Regina protested as Emma made her way back into the trees.

"Coming?" the blond teen cast over her shoulder. "You still know plenty more than I do. I just happen to know the magic stuff, because of, well, you know who."

"I'm still not comfortable with all that," she shivered as she stepped into the woods behind her friend.

"I don't blame you," Emma agreed, taking her hand. "Hold on tight."

"Wait, Emma! You said there was no magic in this land!" Regina exclaimed, frightened.

"Yep, which is why I'm glad I've been saving up since we got back. Didn't have to change us back from rats, merely had to draw the magic back in. This one really is going to tire me out, but at least you'll still be here for my birthday!" She giggled and held the brunette close, before they both were surrounded by a fast-moving cloud of white smoke, highlighted by yellow-gold sparks.

When it faded, they were both in Emma's room, her Book still open on the bed, the door locked and nobody else in the house, seeing as it was the middle of the day. Looking over at the clock, Emma grinned and cackled happily.

"Yes! Not even quarter after noon! I've got you for all of tonight and tomorrow morning! Yay!" she cheered, and hugged the brunette close to her.

Smiling, Regina sighed and enjoyed being held, while holding her right back. "Oh dear!" she said in a mocking tone. "Whatever shall we do with ourselves? All night and until noon tomorrow, eh?"

"Indeed," Emma pantomimed one of her favorite TV characters, leaning in close until their foreheads were touching and noses rubbing against one another.

For what felt like the longest time, but probably wasn't even a whole minute, the two soaked girls just stood there in each others arms, staring into one another's eyes and thinking about... things. Finally, the spell was broken when Regina breathed a deeper sigh than usual and reached up her hands from Emma's back to her shoulders and said, "So, how is this family treating you? Is there an actual party to attend, or is this just going to be the two of us?"

Emma closed her eyes and breathed deep, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "It's just a foster home, not a family. There are like five other kids here. So long as I go to school and don't get in trouble, they leave us be."

"I still find this whole concept of a... of a school that everyone sends their children to... so alien," Regina said as they stepped away from one another. "By the way, do you have enough magic to spare to dry us out?"

"Fraid not," the blond shrugged, trying to hide her grin. "If it is something that can be done through time and effort normally, my magic won't let me do it. If it were a matter of life and death, like one of us catching a disease that would kill us or start a plague, then yeah, I could probably force that. Way my magic works, it has to be big, it has to be needed, and it has to be used for Good ultimately. Sucks, I know, but it is the way it works."

"I know, I know, you've told me before, I just keep hoping that you'll figure out a way around that," Regina grumbled, pulling off her wet boots.

"I've got some clothes you can wear, and we can leave the rest to dry out or throw what we can into the dryer," Emma offered, rooting around the dresser. That was one of the good things about this particular home, the place was big enough that each of the kids could have their own room, unless they went into the double-digits that is. Still, the fact that the place was run more like a halfway house rather than a foster home made Emma almost wish at times, if not for the lesson she learned long ago about wishes and she knew by now not to waste them on frivolous trivialities.

"So," Regina asked, disrobing while Emma searched for clothing, "will you get in trouble for not being in this schooling place?"

"Got that covered," Emma replied. "Story for another time, though... oh."

The just-about-to-turn-sixteen-year-old had turned around and found her olive-skinned friend in pretty much nothing at all, but for the soaked material of her clothes held in her arms in front of her to cover her modesty as much as it could allow for. Which, if Emma was being honest with herself, wasn't much. Swallowing, her mouth and throat feeling suddenly dry and closed, the blond stepped forward with some black cotton leggings, an old over-sized white t-shirt, and a pair of brief panties in her own arms. Wondering why it was suddenly hot in here, she began to contemplate exchanging their armfuls when the older teen took the initiative, taking the wad of clothes with one hand, and then dropping her own into her waiting arms, allowing the younger girl an unencumbered view of her... of her... of everything.

"Thank you Emma," Regina said slowly, rolling her friend's name off the tongue, sounding far more seductive and experienced than any seventeen-year-old had a right to. "Why don't you go hang those out to dry, while I get changed, hm?"

"Right, yeah, dry, uh huh," Emma said, not moving, her eyes wide and not blinking, and her mouth hanging open a bit after she finished speaking.

"Emma?"

"Uh huh?"

Regina forcefully turned the blond around and snapped, "Stop staring at me and get changed!"

"Right, changed," Emma nodded and went to get clothes for herself. By the time she turned back around, Regina had herself covered once more.

Hoping to give her friend—though all of a sudden that word does not seem nearly accurate enough—as much of a show as she'd gotten, while simultaneously hoping it would be as appreciated, Emma began stripping off her own wet material, making sure to arch her back and do all the other little things that would emphasize her features. She even got all the way naked before putting anything back on. Unfortunately, Regina had apparently decided to skip out on the show, and while Emma had been distracted being 'coy' and 'seductive', she'd stepped out of the room. Huffing in annoyance, the blond quickly got dressed after she'd noticed and hurried after the brunette to see what she'd gotten into now.

–_Storybrooke, Present_–

Walking up to the Bed&Breakfast, the only lodging in town as a matter of fact, Emma noted that it too was owned and operated by Granny and Red. Case in point when she entered the foyer and caught them in the middle of a rather loud argument.

"You're out all night, and now you're going out again!" Granny accused the tall brunette with red streaks in her hair. When Emma had seen her earlier at the diner, she'd noticed her name tag identified her as Ruby.

"I should've moved to Boston!" Ruby shouted back at her grandmother, going straight for the coat rack.

"I'm sorry that my heart attack interfered with your plans to sleep your way down the Eastern Seaboard!" the silver-haired woman yelled back.

"Boston isn't that great to begin with anyway," Emma added her two cents to the conversation, such as it was. "Better off in the Hamptons or further south. Or could go north to Canada. Toronto's been getting pretty popular of late. Or so I hear."

"Who asked you?" Ruby growled.

"Hi, I'd like a room," Emma said with a broad grin rather than answer the rhetorical question.

"Really?" Granny blurted out, surprise in both hers and Ruby's expressions. Emma just nodded, still grinning. "Would you like a forest view or a square view? Normally there's an upgrade fee for the square, but as the rent is due, I'll wave it."

Emma shrugged and replied, "Square is fine. Thanks."

"Now, what is the name?" Granny asked, writing into the dust-covered ledger.

"Swan," the blond answered easily. "Emma Swan."

"Emma," a low voice, smooth as silk spoke suddenly from right behind her. She'd deny it if anyone asked, but she had jumped just a little, startled. "What a lovely name."

She turned to glare at the man who'd startled her and stopped herself when she saw who exactly he was. He stood at around her height, had neck-length straight brown hair, his face weathered and lined but overall he still appeared to be in his mid-thirties. He had a gold tooth, wore an Armani suit that was clearly tailored, held a gold-capped ornate cane, and his shoes were just as expensive and exquisite in taste as the rest of his attire. His eyes though... his eyes held large brown irises, rimmed with a bit of gold/yellow/green to them. And they were cold. Cold, calculating, amused, and dark.

Rumpelstiltskin.

"Thanks," she said, turning back to Granny so he wouldn't see the fear in her eyes.

Granny removed a roll of cash from the register on the counter and hurriedly handed it over to the man.

"It's all here," she said fearfully.

"Yes, yes, of course it is, dear," he said, a bit of an accent to his voice, accepting the pay off. "Thank you." Turning to the blond, he gave her a smile that never came near to his eyes. "Enjoy your stay. Emma." Then he turned and hobbled out of the building.

"Who's that?" she asked the family before her, despite already knowing the answer.

"Mr. Gold," Ruby answered, watching through the curtains to make sure their visitor was indeed leaving. "He owns the place."

"The bed and breakfast?" Emma questioned, surprised as everything she'd seen said that Ruby and her grandmother owned it.

"No," Granny shook her head with a heavy sigh. "The _town_." Then, hoping to turn the conversation away from such depressing thoughts, she changed the subject. "So! How long will you be with us?"

"A week," she answered. "I'll go ahead and pay in advance, if that's OK. If I need to stay longer, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Great!" Granny nodded and marked it down in the ledger. Transaction completed, she ferreted out the key, which was one of those old fashioned iron key that all the cartoons get modeled after, complete with ornate iron key chain. "Welcome to Storybrooke."

"Thanks," Emma smiled and accepted the key. Instantly, she felt a shift in the currents and air throughout the town. Smirking to herself as she made her way up the stairs, once she was in her room she glanced out the window to see the square view she'd not-paid-extra for. The clock tower at the center of town now showed 8:16 and was clicking over to 8:17 as she stood there watching it.

Nodding, satisfied with what she'd begun by choosing to stay instead of 'just visiting', she turned to the bed and started putting her overnight stuff away and began getting ready for bed.

–_Twelve Years Ago_–

Emma found Regina on the back porch, staring out at her 'back yard', which given that the house was on one of those steep hills overlooking the valley in which the city sits, it offered a pretty awesome view. She didn't say anything at first, just walked up and stood next to the statuesque brunette as they looked out over her world. Or at least the small portion of it they could see from her back yard.

"Hey," she said, coming up behind the older girl. "Everything OK?"

"I'm in love with you, Emma."

The blond froze. Mostly figuratively, but she definitely stopped moving, even stopped breathing, a cold sensation sweeping throughout her body. It was only offset by the sudden thumping warmth exploding like a supernova in her chest, stealing her breath away.

"Regina," she finally managed to whisper, finding her voice, "I love—"

"And that will be quite enough of that," a sudden British accent intruded on their moment.

They both spun around, Emma pulling the knife she kept on her at all times, holding her other hand up as though ready to throw something. For the briefest of moments she forgot what world she was in, but knew that if she needed to, she could still fire a lightning bolt or two. That worked better for her than fire. Was more controllable too, just had to be careful of metal.

Coming out from just around the corner of the house was a tall older gentleman with a full beard and trimmed silver hair, dressed the same way that he always had been when Emma saw him in this world. Scowling at her teacher/mentor, she placed herself between Regina and the old man.

"Merlin," the blond sneered. "I thought after the last time I said I was through with you and your hypocrisy, you agreed to stay away from me until it was time for me to 'fulfill my destiny'. Now get out of here! Today's my birthday and you're _not_ invited."

"You know," the old man chuckled, "I liked it better when you were all respectful and kept calling me the Book Keeper."

"That's when I thought you were just a creepy book shop owner!" Emma growled at him, still holding her hand at the ready to throw magic.

"This is it, isn't it?" Regina suddenly asked, sounding mournful.

"I'm afraid so," Merlin answered.

"What?" Emma said, looking back and forth between the two. "What?!"

"It is your sixteenth birthday, Emma," Merlin pointed out. "Eight years since I gave you... Your Book."

"Yeah, so?"

"Eight years, Emma," Regina whispered, taking her friend's hand. "When we made that deal with Merlin after breaking into his house? He told us that we would have eight years... before things changed forever."

"What _deal_?!" she screamed at them.

"I read your fortune, remember?" Merlin chuckled, pacing around the backyard. "Told you your futures, both of you. The Eye of Agamato? You remember now?"

Emma's jaw clenched, and her hold on Regina's hand tightened. "I'm not letting you take my Book."

"It's already gone," Merlin observed. "And it won't come back as it has before. Not until you're ready for it, of course."

"I brought her back with me," Emma said, tears pooling in her eyes. "_Before_ the time was up! I can keep bringing her back! She doesn't have to... I won't let her become... _that_! She's here now, and I'll keep her here for as long as I can!"

"She's already here," Merlin told them with a long-suffering sigh. "She got here same way I did. Only difference is that she chose to stay instead of going out into the world."

"Emma," Regina tugged on her friend's hands. "Emma, listen. Listen to me, Emma!"

Both girls were crying now, clinging to one another.

"Emma, what have we been doing? All this time, for the past seven years, what have we been doing?" she insisted. "We've been preparing. Making preparations, making plans, and I am ready now. We're ready. For what is to come. For what I... for what I'll have to do. What has it all been for if you were just planning on cheating fate to keep bringing me back to your world, until it was too late? Merlin... he warned us, warned you, about changing the story too much. And we always said, that..." she choked back a sob, "... that we would never change the past. Not of _this_ world. We know about the Curse. The Curse that I'll cast and that you are destined to break. It is why you are in _this_ world in the first place. If I don't cast it, you don't come here. If you don't come here..."

"I never go back and meet you," Emma whispered, tears finally falling as she kept her eyes closed.

Merlin watched the two teen girls for a moment. He breath a loud sigh and turned to face the valley laid out before him. Knowing he had their attention, he began to speak. "I did not take your Book, Emma. And it has always been _Your _Book! It was never mine, not even before I gave it to you eight years ago. I couldn't tell you this before now, but that book was not an enchanted item, as I lead you both to believe."

"... What?" Emma's eyes snapped open and glared at the old man's back.

"It is the physical embodiment of a _Blessing_," he said, hands behind his back.

The blond blinked and took a step back in shock. Regina, not as well versed in magic as her friend had become, asked, "What does that mean?"

"Uh, um, I... wow."

"It would seem our dear duckling is in a bit of shock," Merlin chuckled, turning around. "Simple explanation, my dear timid duckling, is that when it comes to crossing Realms, there are only a handful of ways. Portals are the most common, despite their rarity. Enchanted items, such as mirrors, are the second most common method. As far as magic, as in spells and the like, there are only two _methods_ in which one might cross into another Realm, though there may be a third method, in theory. But in actuality, those two proven methods are either a curse, or a blessing."

"I've... never heard of a... blessing spell or anything before," Regina commented.

"Considering your mother and her practices, that is not surprising," he said. "The reason Emma looks so shocked is because of the amount of power required for it, the only beings that _can_ grant Blessings are, well, the common man would classify them as deities."

"Gods?" Regina reiterated.

"Indeed," Merlin confirmed.

"And... Emma's Book, it is...?"

"Indeed."

"Holy shit," Emma finally spoke.

"Indeed."

Both girls shot the old man dirty looks.

"Sorry," he shrugged.

"Who? How? I'd ask what, but that's fairly obvious," she asked.

"I'm uncertain as to who," he admitted. "But it was clear nevertheless when I looked into the Eye of Agamato. The 'enchanted book' I told you about was not a book. It was the embodiment of the Blessing you'd been gifted with. The ability to cross realms on your own, it would seem."

"So long as I have the magic to pull it off," Emma sighed, sitting heavily down on the porch.

"Emma... has been... blessed by a... god?" Regina tried to understand.

"As I said, I'm uncertain as to who," Merlin replied. "But the how, well, that would be fairly obvious, if you ask me. She's the Savior. At some point, whether in the past or still in the future, she will do something that warrants her this Blessing. Which has enabled her to change things from what they were. Just enough to allow for the possibility of happiness."

"Why are you here, Merlin?" Emma snapped at him. "Even if you're right, and you usually are about these sort of things, I'm not sending Regina back early. She's here for a full twenty-four hours, until the magic runs out. Same rules as with me, remember?"

"I got a postcard in the mail today," Merlin held up the mentioned item, the familiar picture of a clock tower on the side facing them.

"... How am I supposed to remember to send all these letters?" Regina asked somewhat rhetorically.

"Yeah, so?" Emma snapped at Merlin, ignoring the brunette for the moment.

"I'll let you read it," he said as answer, handing it over.

Taking it, she flipped the picture over and read the words written in a delicate scrawl on the limited space for message writing. At first she couldn't be sure she was reading it correctly and had to re-read the lines several times. When it finally sunk in, Emma started to cry anew.

"Emma?" Regina called, concerned. "What is it?"

She grabbed the postcard and read the lines for herself. Reading her own handwriting there, though slightly evolved and arguably more mature, it was as clear to her as anything. Except, perhaps, the reason why these words would make the person she was in love with burst into tears. "I don't understand. What do you think this means, Emma?"

"It means that I love you and you love me, and will still love me even... after," the weeping blond cried. "It means that... this is the last time we're going to see each other until I can go to this Storybrooke place."

"And... this is why I am here," Merlin told them, highly uncomfortable.

"What are you talking about?" Regina snapped at him, keeping most of her attention on the young woman in her arms.

"I'm talking about the Stable Boy," he answered.

"I don't care about him, all I care about is Emma," she retorted.

"That... is the problem," he stated.

"Oh... hell," Emma said, closing her eyes and squeezing a few more tears out.

"I've already made up my mind on what to do," Regina insisted, her forehead flush with the blond in her arms. "I'll marry the King, raise Princess Snow, learn magic from the Imp, become the Evil Queen, and cast the Curse. All to get back to Emma."

"And there it is, the problem," Merlin reiterated. "Rumpelstiltskin will see past deceptions and false promises. Furthermore, the Dark Curse has to be cast with a clear purpose, and it is after all, a _curse_. Wanting to see someone that you claim to love will cause the curse to fail, and thus history will be changed. It all comes back to the Stable Boy."

"But I love Emma," Regina whispered, staring into her friend's blue eyes.

Emma stared right back and whispered, "And I love you, Regina. I always will."

Merlin was silent. Allowing the girls their time to... grieve for lack of a better term.

"This is so not fair!" Emma cried out. "You are my best friend! You've been through... everything with me on this crazy ride! I fell in love with you from the start, didn't realize it until you got kidnapped by the elves, and now right as I get up the courage to do something about it, to show you, to tell you... we have to say goodbye. It isn't fair!"

Regina held the blond's face with both hands, whispering, "I know it isn't. And I don't care what the old man says, I'll never love anyone the way I love you. Never ever. I will wait for you. You come and find me, and we'll break the curse, and then we can all be together. You and me, your parents, everyone. A family."

Emma sighed. "You don't understand, Gin. He's right. If you try and cast the curse to come find me and not for... for vengeance or desperation or just anger... then it's not going to work. If we don't want to change history, then... there's only one way now."

"What? What is it?" she asked.

"A... a memory blocking potion," she answered, openly weeping. "Keyed to specific knowledge. Like... knowing what's to come."

"But... all those letters, the... what was it? Postcards! I'm supposed to send postcards to you and Merlin when I'm trapped by the curse!" Regina protested.

"Or," Merlin interceded, "knowledge of the true depth of your feelings for one another. That you are merely... best friends, rather than each others True Love. Emma helped me prepare the potions our last... lesson together. I've kept them with me ever since. Not easy to do while narrowly avoiding being cursed with amnesia, by the way."

"You're Merlin, it should've been easy for you," the blond snapped at him.

"So snappish today," he muttered, turning away. "Anyway, I suppose you could say that I came and interrupted you like this to give you a few gifts. The potions, and the knowledge that this will be your last day together before the Curse is cast. You don't have to take them now, but... before Regina disappears would be good." With that said, he pulled out two small vials of glowing liquid and left them on the bottom step of the back porch. "Happy birthday, Emma." Then he walked away.

"He is an absolute bastard," the birthday girl sobbed once he was gone.

"He truly is," Regina agreed, hugging her tight.

–_Storybrooke Bed & Breakfast, Present_–

Emma awoke from the dream. It was still dark out, but the dream—memories really—had driven her awake. That was something else she'd forgotten. Her old teacher, going by the name the name David Stutler, actually _had_ been brought over with everyone else by the Dark Curse. Unlike everyone else though, he could remember who he was, and he could leave the town, which apparently he'd done the very first day of the curse. She'd never managed to get the whole story out of him, but she could tell that something must have happened which turned him... bitter, for lack of a better term.

She hadn't seen him since, well since that day, her sixteenth birthday. The last time she'd seen Regina before Henry brought her here. The last time she'd truly been herself. Since that day, she'd always felt like she was going around in a fog, just blowing wherever the wind would take her. But now... now the fog was lifting.

Over the years, she'd sometimes reminisce about her childhood, usually whenever she was meditating or expanding her magical reserves, a habit she'd kept up the same way most people exercise or do yoga. Before now, she had only briefly thought of the Enchanted Forest and her times with Gin and Alice and Merlin and a teenage runaway Snow White, as one might reminisce about visiting Disney World before entering High School. Looking back on it, even how she was just two days prior, she can scarcely believe how... unmotivated she'd been. And then there had been her... fling with Henry's father. What the hell had she been thinking?

Come to think of it, what the hell had been in those potions?

Merlin said she'd helped him mix them, but she couldn't recall doing anything of the sort! Or... well, no, there was one set of potions. The only ones he'd ever had her brew in _this_ world, rather than in the Forest. The ingredients had come from over there, however. If only she could just _remember_ what they were, maybe she could piece together what potion he'd actually brewed from those ingredients, and figure out why this was giving her so much grief all of a sudden!

Or at the least figure out what it was that she'd done to piss Gin off so much. Speaking of, she wondered how the Queen Mayor was handling this? Too bad she couldn't afford to waste the magic on a scrying spell to peek in on her and see how she was doing.

–_Mayor's House, Same Time_–

Regina Mills lay awake, staring at her ceiling. Since Swan had returned, though it was only the second night, she had not even been tempted to call Graham to her bet to... scratch her itch. The dream she'd just awoken from—memories of her last day with Emma, of the younger girl's sixteenth birthday—was just proof as to why that was exactly.

Since the King, Swan's grandfather rather, she'd had a multitude of lovers. Five, actually. Graham was simply... the easiest to tolerate. Although there were those... but no. That was getting off the point.

Did she even have a point? Oh yes, Swan. Since she'd come back, her 'itch' was only for one person now, the one person she could no longer stand! The one person that was here to break her Curse and take away _her_ Happy Ending! No matter what she said, Regina was absolutely convinced that was her true reasoning for coming back and getting between her and Henry!

But that dream...

She didn't understand how this could be happening. If that potion was the one she was thinking it was, there was no way to get the selected memories back. It wasn't a curse to be broken by True Love's Kiss, it was a targeted effect of the potion's magic. So how could she be remembering this of she'd drunk the potion and her memories of that day erased?

It didn't make any sense. But then, she was only obsessing over that to avoid thinking about what she was actually thinking about.

Swan.

Her dream... her memories told her that Emma Swan, a girl she'd met stumbling out of the woods when she'd gone riding one day, was her first love. And more than that, her True Love. When all these years she'd thought, _believed_, that it had been Daniel. The... the stable boy as Merlin had called him. And obviously, at some point, Swan herself had 'moved on', otherwise they wouldn't have Henry here to fight over. And then there were the postcards... and she was distracting herself again.

She'd been in love with Emma Swan when she was a girl, when they'd been going on day-long adventures with each other, teleporting all over creation thanks to that amulet Merlin had given her, allowing her to go to wherever Swan appeared and then back home before her mother could find out. She'd been in love with a strange girl from another world. She'd been in love with her step-child's daughter, not that either of them knew it at the time. Or cared, even after finding out. They'd been in love with one another.

And now...

Regina turned over in her bed and drew the covers tighter around her curled up body, unconsciously putting herself in the fetal position. The revelation echoed throughout her mind as she fell asleep once more, influencing her dreams for the rest of the night.

Because she was still in love with Swan now, and she was pretty sure Swan was still in love with her.

_Continued...?_


End file.
